


Playing Along

by BelleNoelle



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, Lemon, Light Angst, Love, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sassy, Sexual Content, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-10 07:11:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2015823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelleNoelle/pseuds/BelleNoelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tris is kidnapped by Eric during an attack at Candor Headquarters, she finds herself in a locked room with only one other companion, Peter. Eric is determined to squeeze information out of Tris by manipulating one of the fears he saw in her fear landscape: Fear of Intimacy. As Tris struggles to keep the information she knows hidden, she realizes her only chance at escaping is dependent on Peter and their ability to survive by playing along. Warnings: Smut and Non Con.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Help I'm alive

**Author's Note:**

> Before you proceed to the fanfic, I would like to list a few warnings, a little background information, and a disclaimer.
> 
> Author's Warning:
> 
> This story will contain spoilers from Divergent and Insurgent and minor spoilers from Allegiant. If you do not wish to have some awesome plot twists revealed at this moment in time, I would suggest you read no further. BUT, if you have read both Divergent and Insurgent or don't mind spoilers, read on.
> 
> This fanfic is rated M/ MA and is intended for Mature Audiences only. There will be smut. Plenty of smut along with several controversial issues such as Nonconsensual/ Dubious consensual sex scenes, explicit sex scenes, kidnapping, thoughts of suicide, and minor torture. If any of the listed issues are offensive to you DO NOT READ THIS FANFIC, and I wish to apologize in advance if you decide to read the story and it brings forth unwanted memories.
> 
> Background: This Fanfic is going to pick up at the end of chapter 15/ beginning of chapter 16 in Insurgent, after Dauntless Rebels have invaded Candor on a mission to find the Divergent and Tris has just noticed Eric standing behind her after she helps a Divergent little girl escape.
> 
> Disclaimer: Veronica Roth is the genius behind the Divergent trilogy and all characters/plot lines. I own nothing and these my silly fan-girl fantasies that I am recording into a fanfiction piece for other fan-people to enjoy
> 
> Enough of my drabbles, I present you the fanfic!

_Help, I'm alive_

_My heart keeps beating like a hammer_

_Hard to be soft_

_Tough to be tender_

_Come take my pulse, the pace of a runaway train_

_Help, I'm alive_

_My heart keepsbeating like a hammer_

_Beating like a hammer_

 

Help, I’m Alive- Metro

Chapter One: Help, I’m alive

 

It wasn't until I saw the girl escape into the stairwell that I realized I'd been holding my breath in anticipation.  _Thud. Thud. Thud_. My heartbeat continued at a steady pace as I surveyed my surroundings. Two Dauntless traitors lingered to my left, still temporarily distracted in their conversation to have noticed me.

I have to catch up to Uriah and warn the others before it is too late _._  I took a step toward the stairwell hoping my stealth and disguise would shield me from any suspicion.

"Where do you think you're going, stiff?" a hand latched onto my injured shoulder and held me in place. I shuddered at the familiar, arrogant tone. It's the same voice that belonged to the Dauntless traitor who mocked my weakness during initiate training and who I overheard conspiring with Jeanine Matthews before Peter, Drew, and Al grabbed me. Eric. I cursed under my breath and slowly turned in a circle to meet his metallically embellished face.

"Eric. It's been a while," I replied slowly inching my hand towards the knife I had hastily grabbed before the attack. My pointer finger had just barely grazed its cool steel surface when Eric dug his nail into my wounded shoulder soliciting a fresh shock of pain through my body. He smirked when a painful yelp escaped my lips. In desperation I brought my elbow up and thrust it toward Eric's face colliding with his chin.

As soon as I felt his vice-like grip release my shoulder, I started sprinting toward the stairwell. Eric may be stronger, but my small frame gave me the advantage of speed.

"You little Bitch!" Eric spat behind me. Hopefully my elbow robbed his smile him of a tooth or two. The exit wasn't far from me now. If I extended my hand far enough, I would reach the handle. Eric collided with my back, tackling and pinning me to the ground on my stomach. I didn't stop squirming until I felt the barrel of his gun prod my back. I could feel the blood from the ruptured bullet wound dampen the back of my t-shirt.

"I don't understand," he said with a wolfish grin, "how you could possibly be stupid enough to come up here with no gun."

"You don't know that for sure," I gasped out, my small frame was crushed under his weight. The knife had been slightly dislodged during our collision and I could feel the handle pressing into my back, praying that Eric wouldn't notice my last weapon of defense.

"Nice try, Tris. We both know you'd never make it as a Candor," Eric shifted, releasing some of his weight from the crushing embrace while pressing the barrel of his revolver harshly into my back. "I was informed about your little encounter with Will and how you haven't been able to touch a gun since you put a bullet through his head. You know I wouldn't hesitate to shoot you if you try anything stupid," he warned. He painfully yanked my ponytail and forced me to my feet causing my vision to swim.

"We both know  _you_  wouldn't make it as a Candor," I mimicked when my vision focused again. "You can't kill me," I said through gritted teeth, "not if you're still Jeanine's lapdog. She wants me alive," I said triumphantly, relishing the moment the grin vanished from Eric's face.

"I'm surprised you think you're so valuable," Eric replied forcing me to walk in the direction of the elevators, "considering I was the one who told Jeanine to construct the water tank just for you." The memory of my near death encounter caused an involuntary shiver to erupt throughout my body. I wasn't going to let Eric drag me back to Erudite headquarters.

"She thought studying one of the Divergent's reaction to a real-life version of a simulation would be fascinating," he sneered. I can feel his breath tickle the hair on the back of neck. He smelled like sweat and scotch. "And I agreed. You see, Ingenuity—one of the qualities we most value in Erudite— requires creativity."

Ingenuity. Creativity. Snarky Erudite Bastards. If I wanted to escape Eric, I'd have to think like an Erudite. He managed to take me down by attacking me where I was the weakest— the bullet wound on my shoulder. I had shot Eric in the left foot the day I received my wound. With Eric's injured foot in my mind I lifted my leg and stomped on it with as much force as I could muster. Eric yelped in surprise and I slipped from his grasp before he could regain his composure. I sprinted passed the door and into the stairwell as fast as I could, knowing Eric would be slowed down by his injury. I ran up the stair case, my heart beating wildly in my chest.

I have to get out. I have to get away from Eric and Jeanine. I have to— my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a gunshot. The smooth white tile next to me exploded as I dodged away from where the bullet hit. Perhaps I am not as valuable to the Erudite as I believed.

I scaled three flights of stairs before I heard the shuffle of feet behind me. They were gaining on me. I tried the door at the top of the stairs in desperation only to find it locked.. The dauntless rebels caught up and formed a semi-circle around me training their guns on my chest. Eric shoved a rebel out of the way as he approached me, seething. I took slight pleasure in the fact that he was limping, but quickly focused on the enemy in front of me and grabbed at my back with my left hand, relief flooding me as my hand grasped the knife.

"It's over Tris," Eric hissed pointing his gun in between my eyes. If I was going to die, I wouldn't be going alone. I pulled out my knife and lunged at him. Before the knife reached his torso, I felt a sharp pain at something collided with my temple and my vision faded to black.

 

* * *

 

A raw ache echoed in my skull when I pried my eyes open. Panic settled into my stomach as I recalled what happened last time I was conscious. Gritting my teeth, I tried sitting up to assess my surroundings and groaned, immediately regretting that decision. I decided to observe the area from what I presumed to be the floor. The cement underneath my back cooled the exposed skin on my arms and shoulders.

I lifted my hand to the side of my head feeling something tacky coat the skin above my ear— blood. Why wasn't I dead? I certainly pissed Eric off enough to earn a bullet in my head. Perhaps he shot me after all and this what death feels like— a cold, empty, and painfully eternal existence. I decided against it after the pounding in my head increased. Pain is a sign of life, the body's way of alerting you of an injury. I remember my brother telling me this when I had clumsily tripped over the uneven sidewalk in the factionless sector on my way home from school. Caleb had dutifully carried me back to our house, chiding me for not keeping a better watch over my surroundings. He also had to remind me not to cry because that would draw unnecessary attention, something the Abnegation didn't believe in. The thought of my broken family brought a stab of pain to my chest. The one area where I was sure I wasn't injured during my spat with Eric. I had hardly been given the chance to grieve over the death of my parents before I had to fight for my life again at the Amity compound.

The air smelled familiar— like earth, sawdust, and sweat. Metal girders lined the ceiling of the dark room, supporting the hollowed out rock ceiling. The top of a bunk bed caught my eye and I carefully turned my head in disbelief. This looks like the initiate dormitory in dauntless headquarters, I mused. The room looked disheveled, as if someone hastily moved the furniture about, leaving behind bits of paper, cloth, and dust. Two bunk beds remained in the room: one just an arms-length away from me and another about ten feet away.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Stiff. You haven't moved all day, like a stiff pancake," a gravelly voice called from across the room. Hesitantly I lifted my head to find who the voice belonged to. Sitting on the bunk further away, was Peter Hayes in all his glory. Well, almost all his glory. His usually smooth brown hair was caked with blood and a large gash marred his forehead from hairline to eyebrow. His arms and legs were discolored with large bruises and he seemed to be nursing a sore shoulder. Despite his various injuries, he still had the attitude of the boy I met on the train to Dauntless headquarters after the choosing ceremony. The arrogant sneer that seemed permanently etched in his features was on full display. A person with the audacity to shove a knife in another's eye or throw them into the chasm because they stood in his way.

My eyes shifted to the object in his lap. A gun. Why would Peter have a gun? I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at the boy who I had unconsciously saved from a bullet landing in his brain, just a week ago. He remained completely uninterested in my appraisal of our surroundings and more interested in the weapon on his lap. I couldn't say I blamed him. In the world we live in, having a weapon increased your chance of survival, even if just for one day. Deciding he wasn't in any condition to attack me at the moment, I took my eyes off him to assess my injuries. I took my time getting off the floor using the bunk bed behind me to assist my endeavor. Groaning and gasping, I managed to seat myself on the bottom bunk and decided I was satisfied enough with this position for the time being.

"Eric really made a mark on you. Several to be exact," he smirked to himself, "but don't worry, I think it brings out your eyes." I ignored his remark and began inspecting my injuries.

The Dauntless Traitor jacket I disguised myself in had been removed while I saw unconscious. Angry red lines were left behind on my pale skin where the seams of the leather jacket were sewn together. Those were probably from pressure and dehydration and weren't as big of an issue as the bullet wound that throbbed in my shoulder. I could feel my heart beat in my shoulder as my body tried to mend the wound Eric had reopened with his dirty hands. Perhaps I could find something to wash it out before I tore off a strip of a bed sheet to make a makeshift bandage. Several other minor scrapes and scratches decorated my arm, some with congealed blood surrounding them, others with lymph trickling out.

"Check your shoulder," Peter mumbled from across the room, "looks like they hit you with one too." I was about to snap that I had been aware of my bullet wound since the Dauntless attack simulation until I noticed a blue dye surrounding a small metal disk near one of my bird tattoos.

"Did you shoot me with this?" I questioned Peter folding my arms across my chest and eyeing the weapon in his lap. Now I not only have a bullet wound in one shoulder but a funky new blue tattoo with a metal disk in the center.

"Sure. Right after I shot myself with one in the neck," Peter said sarcastically pointing at the identical blue stain in the conjuncture between his neck and shoulder. I continued to glare at him unamused before he continued, "They must have shot you with one when they captured you. Everyone has one."

"Why am I here, Peter?" I snapped. "What did you do with Tobias?"

"Woah, there Stiff," his eyes finally met mine. "You think I have all the answers?" He questioned back in the same heated tone, raising his uninjured eyebrow. "My only instructions were to keep this trained on you," he raised the gun in his lap and pointed it at my chest.

"Why would they need you to babysit me?" I shouted back grabbing the metal pole connecting the two bunks to support myself, "I'm just a little girl, after all."

"We both know that is the biggest understatement of the century. I saw what you did to Eric," Peter replied, lowering the gun slightly. "Besides, they must have thought that you're number one on my list of 'top ten people I would like to spend my free time babysitting'," Peter let out a frustrated sigh. Since when were Candor people so sarcastic?

"And they thought placing you in a room with me would make me behave? I disarmed you before during the simulation attack and I could easily do it again," I threatened. "Inured or not," I added for good measure.

"It won't happen again," he narrowed his eyes. Despite his injured state, we both knew I would be bluffing if I thought I could take him down with my wounded shoulder.

"So you ran back to the Erudite and Dauntless traitors after escaping the Amity compound?" It wasn't really a question but more of an accusation.

"I prefer to be on the winning side of disputes," he exchanged the gun to his left hand to wipe a sweaty palm on the bed sheet before returning it to his right. "Turns out the Erudite aren't found of traitors or Stiff sympathizers," he replied. "Of course they didn't just accept me with open arms—no thanks to you. As soon as I surrendered to you and showed you the way to the control room, I was blacklisted." Peter said, his tone softening slightly. "They were planning on executing me, but I made them a deal they couldn't refuse." He responded, shadows reflecting across his angelic face.

"What? You pledged your undying devotion for their cause in exchange for their sympathy?"

"I offered them information I gathered from Marcus when we escaped Amity together. And this." He reached into his pocket and held up the memory stick that I had stolen from Erudite headquarters. "It was simple, really. While you were busy trailing Marcus, I snuck into your room to find it wedged in the exact same spot I found it in the first time— behind the dresser. Didn't really think that through did you? Jeanine was quite pleased that I managed to return this to her, still intact. She was sure it had been destroyed."

"You lying son of a bitch! Jeanine was right! I destroyed it. I smashed that device to a million pieces!"

"You smashed a fake. Do you really think I would let you take away the one item that would guarantee a way back to working for the Erudite?" he stood from his bunk and began to slowly walk towards me.

"Was that before or after I beat the shit out of you?" I sneered standing up to meet him, refusing to shrink away. "I think you are a coward."

"That is where you're wrong. What I've done proves anything but cowardice. Sure, it was solicited by a great deal of self-preservation but I've climbed the ranks, Tris. I'm close to becoming a Dauntless leader now. I don't have to be under the simulation anymore." He flashed me a white smile.

"I shouldn’t have saved you in Amity compound," I snarled angrily. "I shouldn't have stopped them from burying a bullet into your traitorous brain." Something seemed to stir within him at my statement and for a second he looked hurt, but the expression was replaced with a smirk. It happened so quickly, it could probably just be a trick of the light.

"We both know you did that out of instinct. It must be a downside of your divergence. You can't control your Abnegation side no matter how much you wish you could." He was inches from my face now, close enough that I could see a mural of blue and gold in his green eyes —obviously too close for comfort. We continued to stare at each other, silently fighting for dominance. I could see his gun pressed to his side, in my peripheral vision and knew this could be my one chance at escaping.

Without breaking eye contact, I lifted my foot back and kicked him in the shin, satisfied when I heard an involuntary groan escape his lips. I twist my body and tried to duck around Peter but my injuries slowed me down. A hand enclosed itself around my neck and I fell backwards on to the bottom bunk I had previously perched on. Peter's grip on my neck did not loosen when my back hit the mattress and he had me trapped under his weight. I was clawing desperately at his hand, trying to pry it from my throat. The edges of my vision starting to fade as my body searched for oxygen. His grip on my neck loosened but the barrel of his gun dug into my temple.

"Careful, stiff. I may be under orders to watch over you, but accidents happen. I may forget to take the safety off, and accidently pull the trigger and fire a bullet into your pretty brain," Peter whispered, his hot breath tickling my ear causing an involuntary shiver to erupt through my body. He was lying. He would never shoot me.

"Then do me a favor and shoot me," I said through gritted teeth. "Jeanine probably wouldn't be very happy, but it seems like you have nothing to lose now."

After an agonizing minute of his crushing weight on my weak body, Peter finally sat up. His gun aimed at my chest. "I'm not working under Jeanine actually. I'm working for Eric. As far Jeanine knows, you were a casualty in the invasion. After all, their orders were to return with two Divergent and kill the rest."

"Why am I here? What would Eric want with me?" I try to create as much space between us on the small bunk.

"That would be confidential. Don't worry; he doesn't need you for very long. Then he will terminate you, as you wish." He pulled a clear syringe out of his pocket and injected it in to my neck before I could escape.

"Sleep tight, Tris." Peter mumbled as my heavy eyelids shut against my will and I succumbed to sleep once more.


	2. My Graceless Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies. As promised in the first chapter, I am going to warn you before any sensitive topic/issues are brought up. This chapter has NON CONSENTUAL SMUT. If you cannot tolerate non con material, I suggest you skip this story. Enough of my foreboding words, Once more onto the fanction, my friends!  
> xBelle

_And I am done with my graceless heart_

_So tonight i'm gonna cut it out and then restart_

_'Cause I like to keep my issues drawn_

_It's always darkest before the dawn_

Shake It Out- Florence and the Machine

 

Chapter Two: My Graceless Heart

I dream that I was standing in the Amity orchards. The rich smell of the earth, carried by the wind, gently caressed my bare shoulders. The trees in the orchard were laden with ripe peaches, one of which dangled on a branch just inches above my head. I knew I was not supposed to eat the fruit, but I couldn't stop myself from pursuing it.

I reached my arm out to grasp the fruit, only to find it further from my grasp than I had perceived. I stood on my tiptoes and reached again, my fingers barely skimming the bottom of the textured fruit. I felt like Tantalus, trying to subdue his hunger with a fruit that was always out of reach. I heard a twig snap behind me and whirled around to see who it was. Peter Hayes stood behind me, a playful smile on his angelic face.

"Let me help you," he said gently and reached his arm out to grasp the fruit and pluck it from the branch. Instead of placing it in my outstretched hand, he held it out of my reach playfully before taking a bite of the peach, its juices dripping from his lips and trailing down his arm. I reached out and took the peach, biting from the other end, it's sweetness exploding in my mouth. One moment I was holding the peach in my hand and the next hand was tangled into Peter's hair as he moved his soft mouth against mine. My eyes fluttered closed and I sighed in content. His hands encircled my small waist and pulled me closer to him.

"Trust me, Tris," he broke the kiss to murmur in my ear. He teased me, placing small kisses from my temple, down my jaw, and onto the sensitive parts of my neck. I moaned and explored his broad shoulders and back with my hands. He put his mouth back on mine and deepened the kiss as his hands explored my body, finding the hem of my dress and gently tugging it over my shoulders. His eyes gleamed like a child, gazing at his unwrapped birthday gift in wonder.

"Gods you are so beautiful," He whispered eyeing my naked form. I clung to his shirt as he reached down to the apex in my thighs, making me gasp in pleasure. He slowly slipped a finger beneath the waistband of my panties and explored my sensitive flesh. I gripped his shirt harder and stifled a moan when he touched my sensitive bundle of nerves. I pressed myself against his hand, giving him a better angle. He used this as a chance to slip a finger into my wet canal and ease it in and out.

"Lay down," He said guiding me toward the soft grass. He placed a chaste kiss on my lips and grinned at me mischievously. He kissed my throat, stomach and then nestled himself between my folds. Placing another finger in my drenched entrance, he gently sucked at my clit and moved his fingers in and out at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Cum," he commanded gently before vigorously latching his mouth to my hardened bundle of nerves and moving his fingers faster and in an upward motion stimulating a spot I didn't know existed. The stimulation I was receiving pushed me over the precipice and I collapsed like putty in his hands.

"Peter," I moaned before waking up, sweating. I sat up straight and gasped when I felt a pain in my neck. The place where Peter had injected a clear fluid throbbed. I kicked the covers off and swung my legs around the side of the bed. The lights flickered dimly, illuminating the room in a soft glow. I brought a finger to the injured area of my bullet wound to find it bandaged up and the throbbing pain ceased. The cuts on my legs had also healed leaving behind a few pink scars in their wake. Last time I was conscious, I was still raw and bleeding. How long was I out this time?

How long have I been trapped in this room? A few hours? A few days? I was now wearing different clothes and I shuttered to think of who changed me. Eric or Peter? I gulped when I recalled my dream of Peter in the Orchard. The drugs they have been injecting with must be messing with my brain. I wasn't attracted the Peter. I shuddered at the thought of reenacting what happened in my dream in real life.

I decide to test the door that led to the bathrooms. To my luck, the door opened. It would have been barbaric of them to deny a shower, even in my destitute situation. The dim florescent lights flickered, ever so often, dowsing the room in darkness for a fraction of a second in random intervals. Approaching the sink, I catch a glimpse of my appearance in the mirror. Despite leaving abnegation, looking into mirrors still stirred something deep inside of me— a fracture of my old upbringing trying to break the surface of my persona, one that was hardened by losing both parents.

The girl in the mirror didn't look like me, yet I knew she was. Her skin was pale like mine, her hair also a dull blonde, with wide eyes and a long nose. But those wide eyes are no longer filled with innocence and curiosity of the world around her, but filled with pain and loss. I had to fight the urge to punch the mirror exposing the girl I never wanted to be.

I peeled off my sweat-drenched clothes and unraveled the bandage around my bullet wound, revealing pink scar tissue. Stumbling over to the showers, I turned the nearest faucet on as hot as it would go and stood in the stream of water as it gradually warmed from lukewarm to scorching hot. I was numb to the burns that were forming on my back, secretly hoping that this shower would take up the limited hot water supply in the headquarters as a small act of defiance. Sighing, I stepped out of the shower after scrubbing the sweat out of my hair and body. I dried off using a towel that I had found by the sink and dressed into the same clothes I had worn earlier. I would have to scavenge the room for new clothes.

I returned to the room to find Peter at his perch, gun in hand. He looked healthy, his injuries had healed since the last time I had talked to him. He didn't look up when I passed him when I returned to my bunk. The mere sight of him reminded me of the dream I had, heat rushed to my face as I tried to get images of his strong shoulders, mouth, and fingers out of my head.

"I need new clothes," I stated plainly once I had calmed down enough to look at him.

"I'll keep that in mind," He mumbled. He seemed to be in a bad mood.

"What did you inject in me?" I asked, making my bed.

"Eric didn't tell me what it was. It seemed to heal your injuries. Guessing from how you were knocked out, I would guess some sort of sedative to loosen you up," He replied taking another vial from his pocket to inspect it. "You talked in your sleep. Said my name, have a bad dream?"

"No, It was a good dream, one where I pushed you down the chasm," I sat on my bed meeting his gaze.

"Perhaps I should knock you out again. It would make my job a lot easier," we glared at each other, daring the other to look away first. Petty things like this seem to be my only option of non-physical defiance.

"That wouldn't be necessary," Eric strolled in, his heavy booted footsteps echoing in the cavernous room. I stood up tensely, balling my fists, ready to attack him at a moment's notice.

"What do you want?" I fought the urge to take a step away as Eric eyed me up and down like prey.

"Information. Specifically information on your Divergent comrades." He was only a few meters away from me. "There's no need for us to fight. We can make this nice and simple. You tell me where Four and his group of Divergent rebels escaped to and I won't lay a finger on you. Seems like a fair trade." He cocked an eyebrow at me. I was still planning an escape but with Eric and Peter against me, I stood no chance.

"Can't help you. I have no Idea where they went. Even if I did, I still won't tell you anything," I responded inching my heel backwards.

"Then I will have to force it out of you," Eric lunged at me tackling me to the ground before I could outrun him. He jerked my arm back painfully and threw me onto my bunk. My arms were pinned down on either side of my head and my only defense against my attacker were my legs. I kicked and thrashed at the man on top of me, hoping to kick a sensitive spot and postpone the inevitable. The drug was still in my system, my moves were weak and sluggish.

"You aren't going to make this easy, are you," Eric grunted when I managed to land a hard kick just above the pelvis. I was kicking and thrashing like a wild animal, desperate to escape her cage. I could smell the scotch on his breath, as if he had been drinking moments before entering the room.

"Peter!" Eric shouted, his nostrils flaring and face red from exertion, "Bring the cords! Now!" I heard heavy footsteps running out of the room only to return a few moments later.

Had Peter been standing by this whole time? I felt sick at the thought of him seeing me in my most defenseless state. I turned my head towards the crescendo of footsteps. Peter reentered the room carrying several pieces of long black cords, his face pale, expressionless, and avoiding eye contact. Peter could easily attack Eric from this position, but the chances of Peter trying to help me were as slim as him being able to read my mind.

"Bind her wrists to the bed posts. I'm going to need both hands for this." Eric seethed as a kick landed near his groin, but not close enough to injure the sensitive area.

"I wanted to have fun with this," Eric grunted, slamming my shoulders further into the mattress as Peter wrapped the cords tightly around my wrists, securing them to the bunk's metal frame. With both hands free, Eric slid one rough hand under my tank top and dug his nails into the flesh above my stomach, leaving the other to pin down my thighs. I struggled against my restraints, the tight cords chafing my wrists painfully. I groaned in frustration and glared at the man above me, counting each piercing on his face that I would relish yanking from his flesh. Peter was now at the foot of the bed and reached out to grab one of my ankles.

"Leave," Eric said, not breaking eye contact. Peter released his hold on my ankle, leaving them both free and left the room at a hurried pace. I hated him right now, but not nearly as much as I hated Eric. Eric pinned both of my legs down by his knees, bruising them. His other hand contained a knife —my knife. The one I had carried in my pocket during the attack on Candor. I could see the glint of the blade from the corner of my eye, but kept my constant eye contact. Eric brought the knife to my throat, gently pressing the tip to the top-most bird tattoo my collarbone, maintaining the pressure and slowly dragging the knife across each bird down my chest until it hit the fabric of the tank top, above my heart. Eric's eye gleamed maliciously and he then sliced open my tank top, exposing my bare chest

"Stop!" I screamed, breaking my silence. Eric broke into a broad smile.

"So this is how I can make you talk." My tank top now hung like a vest, goose bumps spreading across my chest. Eric looed down from my eyes to stare at my chest.

"I won't tell you anything." I said through gritted teeth. Eric placed the knife in his pocket and explored my chest with his rough hands. His fingertips gently grazed my nipples causing a wave of heat to go through my body, similar to the heat a felt in my dream with Peter. I cursed under my breath tried to wiggle away from his touch.

"They are bigger than I thought they would be. Four is a lucky guy," Eric smirked massaging my left nipple between his calloused thumb and forefinger. My body tensed at his touch. How dare he speak of Tobias? I felt shallow waves of pleasure run through me, unwillingly at every touch.

This is all wrong. I felt betrayed by my body's reaction to Eric's touch. I could feel a lump in my throat, making it hard to swallow as heat rose to my face. I felt angry, violated, and distressed by Eric's actions but I refused to cry in front of him.

"Is there anything else you want to say, Tris?" Eric painfully pinched my nipple between his knuckles. I wanted this to stop. I wanted this to be over. But what I wanted no longer mattered. I have to keep everyone safe.

"Do whatever you want, you sadistic pig. I won't say anything," I spat back.

"I was expecting, you to say that." Eric nodded, "but you won't be silent for long." Eric roughly grabbed my neck and squeezed cutting off my air, "I am going to make you scream, stiff." His nails dug into the soft skin of my stomach as he made his way down to the button of my shorts. I hoped he wouldn't release his grip on my neck, maybe I could pass out before experiencing what may happen next. Unfortunately his grip loosed on my neck as he took out the knife once again and began cutting the fabric of my black shorts. Eric furrowed his eyebrows as he cut the fabric, concentrating on the task at hand. With a final tug, my shorts were cut from my body leaving only my white cotton underwear intact.

"I figured this was the best way to get information out of you. I saw you fear landscape back when you were an initiate. You were afraid of being intimate with Four," He smirked. "I bed your two never made it past second base, making you a virgin." I swallowed back the tears that threatened to spill. He slipped the knife under the white cotton to make a nick in the fabric and ripped the rest.

"I'm not afraid of that anymore." I stated, staring at the cement ceiling.

"You're not alone. A lot of initiate girls have this fear. At least the virgin initiates do. That's why mankind has been using this method of interrogation since the beginning of time." I ignored his explanation and concentrated on clenching my legs shut. My thoughts were interrupted again by Eric's weight shifting over my legs as he attempted to pry them open.

"This can all end, Tris," Eric said digging his fingernails into the flesh of my thighs. He yanked my body closer to him causing the restraints on my wrists to dig into my flesh. I whimpered softly in pain and frustration as he managed to pry my unwilling legs open. He stared at my sex hungrily. "Tell me what you know, and I will stop right here." My eyes widened when I heard him remove his belt and unzip his pants. Would he really stop if I were to tell him everything? Oh course not. It didn't take an Erudite to see that.

"Look." He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at the conjuncture of my thighs where my cotton underwear was torn. In his other hand, just inches away from my opening, Eric was stroking his hardened member. He was getting off to this. I tried averting my eyes but I could still see the movement of Eric's hands in my peripheral vision.

"As much as I'd enjoy fucking you, I'm a man of my word. If you spill everything now, I will stop. This is your last chance." Lies. I could feel his cock nestle into my tender folds. He released his hold on my chin and spit on his free hand, running it over his length to lubricate it. I felt a pressure as the head of his member hit my maidenhead. Gods, I didn't want this. I had to be strong. I am Dauntless, I can handle the pain. I am Erudite, I can think my way out of this later. I am Abnegation, I would rather sacrifice myself then risk the lives of the ones I love.

"Go to Hell!" I yelled through clenched teeth.

"Gods, I hoped you would say that," Eric flashed a malicious smile before forcefully thrusting his full length past my barrier. I screamed at the intrusion and gripped the cords binding my wrists. I couldn't help it now. I let a single tear burst passed the dam of I'd created out of stubbornness.

"Gods, Stiff. You. Are. So. Fucking. Tight." He thrust into my aching core with each word, not giving me a chance to rest in between.

"I imaged fucking you, when I first saw you. You were so perfect. Fearless," He released his bruising grip on my thighs and positioned his elbows on both sides of my head so he could see my face as he continued his relentless thrusting. He kissed my collar bone and sucked at the sensitive flesh behind my ear, once again reminding me of my intimate dream with Peter. I shut my eyes and tried to calm down, like when I was in the fear simulator. Maybe this isn't real. Maybe if I calmed down or faced my fears this whole ordeal will dissolve into an oblivion. The pain I had initially felt was almost bearable now, as if I was becoming immune to the pain by the second.

"Open your eyes, Stiff," Eric commanded into my ear, followed by a nip on my lobe. "I want you to know exactly who is fucking your pretty little brains out." I met his gaze and glared, forcing all of my hatred into it.

"That's a good girl. You're a fast learner," he mocked. Now tell me, what I need to know." His thrusts were becoming shallow and desperate. He was close to finishing, I could feel his cock pulse against my inner walls.

"No!" I shouted back. His hands wrapped around my neck once more and squeezed.

"Tell me, or I will cum inside of you!" Eric threatened releasing his hold on my neck to allow me to speak again. The last thing I wanted was to be pregnant. His thrusts increased speed, fucking me into the bed. I was running out of time. I could reveal where I thought Tobias had taken the Divergent in to hiding, most likely in the faction safe houses and possibly avoid the risk of pregnancy. That is, if he kept his word, but Eric was a snake. He wouldn't honor anything.

"No." I squeezed the walls around his cock hoping it would make him finish faster. His eyes widened at my action and an animalistic groan of pleasure erupted from his throat.

"Have it your way." I could feel spurts of warm liquid fill my canal, and his thrusting finally coming to a halt. We both panted, Eric's sweaty body heaped over mine, his breath tickling my neck.

"You are going to regret not telling me anything," he threatened. "I am going to fuck you raw until you tell me." He pulled his cock out in one fluid motion. It was slick with his cum and my blood. I felt like I was going to be sick. He hastily buttoned up his pants, leaving his belt undone, before leaving.

It was over, at least for now. I closed my eyes once again and tried to take deep breaths. The lump in my throat grew to an uncomfortably large size and I finally broke into sobs. I knew I had to be strong, but I allowed myself this one moment of weakness. I had been strong, I reminded myself. I didn't spill any secrets. I succumbed to fatigue once I was sure I had shed the last tear.

I heard footsteps and immediately tensed, before I realized they didn't belong to Eric. They were soft and cautious not heavy and demanding. Peter. I relaxed and pretended to be asleep as he approached me. The last thing I wanted was to argue with Peter after my moment of weakness.

I could feel his eyes on me as he walked around the side of the bed. I jumped slightly when I felt him lay a blanket over my naked body. If he saw me stir, he didn't comment on it, instead moving to the head of the bed to release me from my restraints and gently place my arms at my sides. My wrists ached from the cords holding them, and I could tell they had been rubbed raw.

A warm cloth dabbed at my face and moved on to the sensitive flesh behind my ears were Eric had violently bruised with his mouth. I flinched slightly as the warm water stung the raw skin but relaxed.

"Tris?" I heard Peter whisper from his place beside me. I opened my eyes to look at the man in front of me. I was expecting to see a hardened expression cemented on his face but instead saw the face of a boy who had witnessed something terrible. He reached his hand out to touch my arm and I flinched away. His arm stayed suspended in midair while he contemplated whether or not to try and comfort me. He dropped his hand back to his side but not before I witnessed it trembling.

"I brought you warm water and a cloth to clean up. I will try to look for some more clothes for you." His worried features once again turned stoic as he left the bowl of water and washcloth on the floor next to me and exited the room.

The pain at my entranced has subsided, but evidence of his assault remained and dripped down my thighs. Disgusted, I grabbed the cloth and scrubbed the sore area raw. Pure hate bubbled throughout my body, making my blood boil in my veins. I was no longer the hurt girl I was moments ago, but a woman scorned. I wrapped the white sheet Peter had brought and waited for him to return.

When I heard his footsteps coming toward the room I ran and hid behind the door. Peter stepped into the room carrying a small stack of black clothes. He hesitated when he spotted my empty bunk and reached for his pocket but it was too late, I had already pounced on him from behind and tackled him to the floor. The syringe he had pulled from his pocket rolled across the floor.

"Are you next in line to rape me?" I yelled struggling against him. I dropped the bed sheet that was covering my body so I had both hands free to pin him down and search for a weapon. Peter grabbed me by my arm and rolled me over, pinning my hands on either side of my head. I squirmed under him, trying to force him off, but he was too strong for me.

"Get off me Peter!" I once again feared an assault as I lay trapped under Peter.

"Calm down, Tris," He said narrowly avoiding my elbow colliding with his jaw. He shifted his weight to pin me down completely making any movement impossible. I screamed in frustration. I was not about to let this happen to me again.

"I'll kill you. I swear it. I'll kill you!" My screaming faded into sobs. I turned my face to the side in an attempt to hide the tears.

"Look at me," I refused to turn my head at first, but eventually gave in, "I'm not here to hurt you, Tris," His hypnotizing blue eyes poured into mine. I stopped struggling against him, panting from exertion. His attitude reminded me of my dream. He had said "Trust me". There was nothing else I could do. After a minute of intense staring and awkward silence, Peter rolled off me, jumped to his feet, and offered me his hand. I struggled to push myself up, my legs trembling but refused Peter's outstretched hand. I stood up and tried to maintain my modesty by using my hands to cover up. Peter stared for a second and then flushed a bright red, averting his eyes and handing me the stack of clothes he had been carrying before I attacked him.

"Thanks," I muttered. I examined the items Peter brought. A plain halter dress, a sweatshirt, a pair of underwear, and over sized socks all in dauntless black. I put on the strange ensemble while Peter turned his back. Everything was a too big on my small frame, but I was thankful to be in clothes again.

"Sorry, I grabbed the first things I saw. Everyone abandoned this place after the simulation attack," Peter explained. "Some of us Dauntless who sided with Erudite sleep here when we aren't needed.

"I prefer to call you Dauntless traitors," I responded. I still didn't trust Peter, but I ached for human company, other than Eric, of course.

"Funny you should say that, we call you guys at Candor the same thing," Peter responded with his arms crossed, "Also cowards or Zeke's favorite word, Pansycakes." I ignored his retort.

I looked toward my bunk that was still in disarray. Sweat and blood-stained sheets with black cord remained at the head of the bed. I couldn't stomach returning to sleeping on that bunk, instead I climbed the ladder to the bunk above it, Christina's bed. I felt safer being on higher ground.

"I'm sorry," I heard Peter say, his sad eyes looking up at me.

"I don't want your sympathy," I spat back. "You knew he would do this, didn't you?" I questioned.

"Listen," Peter said urgently, looking around the room as if someone might be eavesdropping. "He wants information on the divergent so he can feed it to Jeanine who isn't happy with him at this moment. He knows you know something and Four has disappeared along with every known divergent." I was trying to process this new information. Tobias was safe for now.

"Why should I trust you, Peter? You tried to kill me once and seem pretty chummy with Eric," I narrowed my eyes.

"All I can tell you is that you're going to need a friend. You want Eric's 'interrogations' to stop and I want Eric dead as much as you do," I didn't want to believe Peter. I wanted to continue hating him as I did before, but I had a feeling I could trust him. "If we are to get rid of Eric, we need to play along."

"Play along?" I sputtered. I was expecting a well thought out plan, but this idea was pure idiocy. "What do you mean by 'play along'? Play along by pretending to like what is happening?"

"No. I meant feed him false information. I will help you come up with it because I monitor the control room here. I see what goes on in almost every building. I've recently set up a camera to spy on Jeanine." I had to give it to him, this was impressive.

"But, I still have to have sex with him?" I already knew the answer, yet part of me hoped playing along didn't involve that.

"We both know that Eric will assault you regardless. He is trying to gain access to the Candor truth serum to make you talk, but has been unsuccessful so far. The sooner we put this plan in motion, the sooner I can get you out of here," Peter was pleading with me. "He will investigate any leads you give him by himself. There are dauntless here who are spying for your side. I will get them to help me stage an attack. Once Eric is gone, I will sneak you out."

"Why would you want to help me?" I asked incredulously.

"Let's just say I owe you a favor," He responded with a smirk.

I agreed to the plan and for the first time in a long time, I felt hopeful.


	3. What Happens If I Let Go?

_Light up, don't know how I did it right from the beginning, my head's kinda spinning_

_Light up, I won't be forgiven, my life is forbidden, they say it's a miracle_

_Sometimes I don't even know if I'm wrong or right_

_I try to drown the sorrow that surfaces every night_

_I'm moving at a speed that makes everybody look slow_

_What happens if I let it go_

Magnetic- Jessie J

Chapter 3: What happens if I let go?

 

 

I lost count of how many days I’ve spent in captivity—had it only been a few days? Time is such a complicated concept: it races when you’re happy and slows down painfully when you’re hoping the day will end. In order to keep record of the time I’ve spent here, I’ve taken to marking tally marks into the wood edging with my nail every morning—at least what I suspected to be morning. As of right now I only have three scratches into the wood. I was incredibly lonely and sometimes preferred Peter’s company to the lonely room —of course I would never admit that out loud.

My heavy eyelids were testing my will to stay awake as my brain tried to comprehend Peter’s plan. I repeated the two words over and over again in my head. Somehow I expected to find hidden wisdom in the foolish idea. Playing Along. Playing Along. Playing Along. I repeated it until the mantra no longer sounded like English, but some alien tongue. I was once again alone in the dormitory. I hadn’t seen Eric since his “interrogation” and Peter disappeared soon after discussing his ingenious plan to get me out of here. He is no Erudite, but someone who has gotten away unscathed from making so many enemies must be experienced enough to get us out. Would we be able to trick Eric, a former Erudite?

I must be crazy to trust Peter’s plan. I probably couldn’t count on one hand all of the people he has betrayed, stepped on, or injured to get ahead. Let’s see, first there was Edward, then me, then he betrayed his dauntless leaders by leading us to the control room, then he once again betrayed us to go back to the dauntless traitors. I definitely couldn’t even count his misdemeanors on one hand. Right now, I would give almost anything to find out what he was thinking.

The silence rang in my ears as I tossed and turned in the bunk. My body craved sleep after the trauma Eric caused, but I refused to succumb to it.  With a groan I descended from my perch, grateful for the feel of the cold floor under my bare feet. I walked toward the locked door Peter and Eric had emerged and disappeared behind and banged on it several times. I was almost positive no one would answer, and was not at all disappointed when the door didn’t open. I leaned my back against the metal door and sank to my knees in defeat. This could be worse, I thought to myself. I could be trapped under Jeanine and be forced to go through all sorts of torturous experiments in order for her to find out why my brain threatened her utopian fraction system. I ached for my friends; Tobias, Uriah, Caleb, and Susan and wondered what they were doing. Would they suspect me to be alive my body doesn’t turn up? Do they believe Jeanine took me away or that I ran away? Would they even attempt to find me? I had so many questions and very little control over my situation. All because of one person: Eric. I relished the idea of ripping out the piercings embellishing his eyebrow and the cartilage of his ears one by one. Later I would take the metal piercings and melt them down into a knife and use that knife to slit his throat.  The idea was dark but oddly satisfying.

Something gleamed in my peripheral vision; an object nearly a yard away. I cautiously walked closer to inspect it. I began to suspect a knife but as I inched closer I discovered Peter’s weapon of choice— a syringe. I had forgotten how I had knocked it out of Peters hand when I attacked him. Luckily for me, he must have forgotten too. The syringe looked similar to the one I had used to inject fear simulation serum into myself, but this syringe was smaller and the needle was hidden by a white cover. I removed the cover and pressed the end of the syringe slightly to see the color of its liquid contents — a small bead of a pearly white liquid dropped from the needle onto the floor.

I mentally listed off the serums it could possibly be. The Amity peace serum was green, Dauntless simulation serum was orange, Candor truth serum was blue, the rumored Erudite death serum was purple, Abnegation didn’t use a serum as far as I knew— my list of serums and their uses did not include a white serum. It wouldn’t surprise me if the Erudite had invented many more serums than the original four. I assumed this serum to be a sedative and replace the white cover  over the needle to avoid poking myself accidently. I hid it under my pillow. Maybe I could use this to defend myself if things got out of hand. I climbed back up to my new bunk and rested my head on my pillow once more. For the first time in this new environment, I felt safe clutching a weapon under my pillow. I closed my eyes and let myself drift off into sleep.

* * *

 

 

 “Get up, Stiff,” Someone was yanking the thin covers from around my body. My eyes snapped open and I grabbed the cylinder under my pillow. Rough hands latched onto my leg and forearm and were pulling me down from my perch. I let go of the syringe to grasp the headboard with both hands and kicked my free leg toward my attacker. I felt my foot collide with his face before I fell to the floor. The room was still dark; the lights had been shut off while I was asleep.

“Fuck,” A familiar voice echoed through the room.

“Don’t come any closer!” I warned. I could barely make a silhouette approaching me. The figure ignored my warning and grabbed my neck, forcing my back to collide against the wall. My neck was temporarily released but the attacker’s weight crushed into me.

“Let me go!” I struggled against my captor, trying to free my arms and legs. A hand covered my mouth, muffling my screaming.

“Shh. It’s Peter.” My assailant whispered into my ear, his hot breath tickling my neck.  My eyes searched  the darkness and I could barely see his pale skin in the darkness. “I’m trying to help you. Promise me you won’t scream if I uncover your mouth.” I nodded against his hand.

“What the he-” I started to say but was cut off by his fingers over my lips again. I tried fighting against him again but his vice like grip didn’t loosen.

“For fuck’s sake! Can you be quiet for once?” Peter hissed. I stopped struggling against him and breathed deeply into his hand. I could smell the spicy sent of his cologne reminding me of sharing a room with him as an initiate. We both were panting and sweating from struggling against each other. After what seemed like several agonizingly long minutes, Peter released his hand from my mouth and stepped back. I wiped the perspiration from his hand off my face before crossing my arms protectively over myself. Last time we spoke, we were plotting to over throw Eric. He wasn’t about to change his mind on our allegiance now, was he? A part of me wanted to assume the worst about Peter but if he really wanted to hurt me, he probably would have already.

“Thank you,” he sighed. I continued to stare at him in silence. “I need to talk to you. Eric is going to visit you again today and we need to figure out what you’re going to say.” His whispers were barely audible forcing me to step closer in order to hear him.

“That’s what this is about?” I whispered angrily. “Couldn’t you have waited until I was awake?”

“There’s a camera in here. We were okay talking yesterday because Zeke was the only one in the control room, but someone else is watching the cameras now. We can’t risk fucking this up.” Peter put a hand on my arm to get my attention and pointed to the corner of the room where a silhouette of a sphere was located. Was that supposed to be a camera?

“They are watching me?” Peter nodded. I suddenly felt ill. Could Zeke have seen what Eric did to me? I shuddered at the thought. I sat down on the bottom bunk and felt the bed move beneath me as Peter joined me.

“Where is the last place Tobias would be?” Peter whispered beside me.

“Erudite headquarters, obviously. They are the ones trying to kill us,” I whispered back. I remembered Tobias’ advice about hiding the memory stick behind the dresser again after Peter found it the first time. He had me put it back in the same place because it would be the last place someone would look for it, or so he thought.

“You really think Four is stupid enough to lead a group of Divergents near the faction who would love to break their brains apart with a scalpel?”  He was right it did sound pretty ridiculous. “Besides, the Erudite have the faces of the known Divergent memorized. They’ve posted pictures of you guys all over the city with a reward for anyone who brings one of you in alive. Rumor is even the factionless were promised a spot in society if they turned someone in.”

“I don’t think he went to Erudite, Peter,” I whispered in frustration. “You asked me about the LAST place he’d be and I gave it to you.”

“God damn it, Tris! Listen to me. I’m just saying that Eric is not going to believe Four would have settled in at Erudite. It’ll be game over the minute he suspects you’re lying.”

“I know where he could have gone.” The safest place for Tobias and his group to hide is with Evelyn and her army of factionless. Their safe houses are spread across the city and he could be in any of them.

“Don’t say it. I don’t want to know” he leaned back on the bunk. “There’s a chance you can fight truth serum, I’m fucked if he questions me.” I nodded in agreement.

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t going to trust someone like you with vital information. After all, you’re his sidekick.”

“I’m not his fucking side kick. I’m moving up the ranks.” My comment irked him.

“Right, you moved from snitch to a glorified babysitter,” I smirked. It wasn’t wise to argue with Peter, but I couldn’t help it.

“Watch it, stiff. As far as you’re concerned, I’m your only chance out of here,” Peter hissed into my ear. He was uncomfortably close now.

“What if we said he went to Amity? Are they still impartial?” I asked tensely. I could smell Peter’s spicy cologne again and my mind drifted off to the forbidden dream I had the other night.  The darkness concealed my red tinged cheeks.

“It may be our only option. We can’t risk Eric sniffing around the city,” I stiffened as Peter leaned in closer to whisper. I could feel his breath tickle my neck. If someone were to have told me a month ago that Peter and I would have to work together to survive I would call them crazy.

My eyes were now completely adjusted to the darkness and I could clearly see Peter watching me. We were sitting very close to each other in order to keep our discussion quiet, something I didn’t notice before.

 “You never told me why you wanted to leave,” I looked into his eyes studying their color; a green rimmed with dark blue.

“Do I need one?” he brushed a stray lock of hair away from my face and gently tucked it behind my ear.  I let out a small gasp when he gently traced his finger down my jaw and stopping above my heart. The tender touch felt nice and I could feel my stiff body relaxing. Peter tucked his fingers under my chin and my eyes studied the curve of his lips before meeting his eyes again. I imagined kissing his full lips, feeling his warm body against mine. Wait. My eyes widened and I jerked my body away from his touch, instantly feeling cold.

“I’ve never known you to do something without expecting something in return,” I said coldly.

“You’ve got me,” he chuckled under his breath. “Let’s just say I have my reasons. Several of them.” He looked into my eyes as if searching for something. “I should go,” Peter muttered and stood up from the bunk

“Wait!” I grabbed his hand to keep him from leaving again. My heart was beating wildly in my chest as I held on to his hand.

 “Eric will visit you today. You have to pretend you don’t know anything until I give you a signal. Eric won’t believe you if you spill too early, but we risk hurting you if we wait too long.” Peter cut me off before I could speak. “I’ll give you a signal when the time comes.”

“What’s the signal?” I released his hand.

“Watch the lights,” He responded leaving as silently as he came in.


	4. Eyes on Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello Everyone! I just wanted to let you know that this chapter contains several triggers. WARNING: This chapter contains a semi-graphic Nonconsensual scene. If you are not fond of those, I would suggest you skip this chapter. The next chapter will discuss what happens in less detail as it will be from Peter’s POV instead of Tris.

_Eyes on fire_

_Your spine is ablaze_

_Felling any foe with my gaze_

_And just in time_

_In the right place_

_Steadily emerging with grace_

**Eyes on Fire-Blue Foundation**

 

**Chapter 5: Eyes on Fire**

 

My stomach woke me up the next morning; I was incredibly hungry. I was given a bowl of soup and a piece of bread every day, not enough to satisfy my hunger, but just enough to keep me alive. The dauntless woman who brings it never bothers to look at me. She merely opens the door, sets down the tray, and backs away before I can protest. It was my only indication of a new day beginning. My measly rations were set in their usual place by the door while I was asleep. I approached the food, still on edge from when Peter grabbed me in the night. Maybe I could ask Peter to sneak me something else in the future next time he sneaks up on me. The bowl of soup was still warm when I cupped it in my hands. I tried my best to pace myself while eating, but I always end up devouring it anyway.  I had given up on the idea of it being drugged long ago, I needed my strength. I had a small frame to begin with, but I’ve lost both weight and muscle mass in my time here — each rib was visible on my torso.

I hadn’t noticed Eric enter the room. He leaned against the door with his arms crossed.  If he wasn’t such a sociopathic dick, I might have thought he was handsome. He looked weary, as if he hadn’t slept in days— his hair was disheveled, stubble visible around his mouth, and dark circles hung under his bloodshot eyes.

“Feel like talking today?”

“Depends on what you want to talk about,” I snap. The last thing I want is for things to go as far as they did last time, but I won’t surrender any information this early, even if it is false.

“Quit playing around, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” He pushes himself off the wall and stumbles toward me, “Tell me. Where is Four?” I can smell alcohol on his breath from where I stand. I take several steps back. It would be impossible to fight him off in my weakened state.

“I don’t know,” I grit my teeth. Eric grabs my shoulders, forcefully slammed me into the wall and holds me there with one arm. He leans in close to my face and searches my eyes for something, anything.

“Stop acting so Goddamn stupid! Do I need to remind you of what will happen if you don’t start talking,” Eric seethes. I remain expressionless, staring him straight in the eye. It took every ounce of my control to keep from shaking when he threatens me. “I didn’t know you were a masochist,” He smirks taking a step back to eye my body, “I guess I should’ve expected it. Stiffs get off on beating their children, don’t they?”

“Go to hell!” I kick him hard in the shin and pivot to the side in an attempt to escape as he releases his hold on my shoulders momentarily in surprise. When he recovered, I was shoved back into the wall face first. I manage to turn my head in time to avoid crushing my nose. His body encases me in a steel-like trap. My cheek stings from the impact. I squirm desperately in an attempt to see the light fixture over our heads; I couldn’t afford to miss Peter’s signal.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you enjoyed our time together.” I can feel him grind his hips into me as a reminder of what will happen next.  He releases my shoulders and places one hand at the small of my back, keeping me pinned to the wall.  The other hand plays with the short hem of my dress. I look again to the lights only to see them remain unchanged. Was he going to dim them or turn them all off at once? I feel a gnawing spasm of anxiety erupt in my stomach. What if I miss his signal? What if he forgets about our plan?

“You’re sick,” I wince as he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of my thigh.

“Careful, Stiff. As much as I love spending time with you, I have a rather important mission to attend to.” I have to push hard against the wall with both hands to create enough space to breathe. I can feel his hardened cock grinding into my lower back, while his hand continues its journey up my dress. I was becoming desperate for Peter’s signal.

“If I tell you where he is, will you let me go?” His grip on me loosens slightly. He isn’t expecting me to try to bargain for my freedom yet.

“Something like that, if you behave,” Eric says, the smile in his voice was obvious. Of course he wouldn’t release me. As soon as he completes his mission for Erudite, I was completely disposable to him.

“Well I don’t know where he is,” I insist. I shiver slightly as the zipper on the back of my dress is tugged down, exposing my back to the cold air. Any minute now, I assure myself. Peter will give me his signal; I just need to hold on a little longer.

“So we have to do things the hard way again. Trust me Tris, I don’t mind fucking you for information. It’s one of the highlights of my career. I’ll be honest; I was hoping you’d say no. I’ve been looking forward to fucking you senseless,” He forcefully lifts my dress over my head and discards it to the ground. His body was still trapping me against the wall but not as harshly.  His hands roam my body freely and I feel him place a chaste kiss the back of my neck. I shudder as I consider how many others were victims to his cruel methods.

“I said I don’t know where he is!” I gasp out. I stiffen when I hear the clinking of his belt buckle as he unfastens it.  What the hell was Peter doing? Was this all a sick joke?

“Put both your hands on the wall,” Eric instructs, his hot breath hitting the shell of my ear, “I don’t want to ruin your pretty face when I fuck you up against the stone.” The only thing protecting me from another invasion is my underwear and Eric is already removing them, exposing my entire back side. I am slightly relieved that Eric can’t see my face and witness my resolve crumbling by the second. I bite my lip and stare at the wall. I thought I saw the lights flicker but I wasn’t sure. If Peter didn’t step in soon, I will take matters into my own hands, or fists. As if reading my mind, the lights in the room began to dim slightly, the shadows of the room growing with the receding light. Eric doesn’t seem to notice.

“Wait!” I cry out just as Eric sank a single digit into my dry core.  He withdraws his finger and chuckles.

He spits on his hand and spreads it over his cock. “Is this triggering your memory? I don’t take orders from Stiffs. Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll hear what you have to say.” He positions his member at my entrance.

“Please stop!” I cry out desperately. I can feel the pressure of his head pushing against my core. I struggle against him, desperate to get away.

“That’s better.” He doesn’t pull out, much to my discomfort, but he did stop his intrusion. The head of his cock is inside of me.

 “Amity,” I gasp out. Eric stops trying to force his way into me and spins me around to face him.

“What did you say?”  We both are panting.

“He might have gone back to the Amity compound. They’ve provided a place for refugees to go.” I do my best to look him straight in the eye as I bluff. I’m feeling extremely exposed as I wrap my arms around myself protectively.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” Eric shoves my back into the wall, a grin plastered to his face.

“You didn’t make it easy,” I respond through gritted teeth. Eric’s grin fades as he stares down at me, his dark eyes piercing mine again, as if searching for something. I look away from his intense glare in submission, hating myself for surrendering to him.

“Look at me!” Eric grabs my chin and forces me to look him in the eye. “You think you can fucking lie to me?” My cheek stung after he brought his hand down, slapping it with enough force to cut my lip. I suck myself into the wall, suddenly feeling small as his hand reached out toward me again. I flinch, expecting another slap but instead feel his fingers gently wipe the blood away from my lip. He laughs at my response and runs his fingers over my jawline. He was touching me as if he was my lover, not my rapist.  His quick change from violent to gentle confuse me.

He forces my legs open and enters me forcefully, burying himself to the hilt. I bite my lip in order stifle a scream. I dig my nails into the flesh of his back, drawing blood. He groans but I can’t tell if it is from the pain or pleasure.

“I didn’t lie to you!” I screech. Eric had stepped away from the wall, forcing me to wrap my arms and legs around him to avoid being dropped.

“Four doesn’t deserve you! Why are you so devoted to him? For all you know, he could be banging some other girls behind your back.” A loud knock on the door stops Eric from continuing.

“What?” He barks angrily. He sat on the lower bunk and gripped my thigh with one hand to keep me glued on top of him, the other pinned my arms behind my back. I squirm, trying to free my arms again. I want nothing more than to rip the piercings out of his skin and cause him as much pain as he was inflicting on me. His eyes darken in pleasure and I stop moving.

“We’ve received a report from the fence.  A group of Insurgents penetrated our gates this morning and ran toward Amity headquarters. Two men are down, sir.” A voice calls from behind the door. Eric locks his eyes with my watery ones and I try not to look shocked at the announcement. Could Tobias really be heading to Amity?

“Send Peter to investigate it, now! I’ll be there later.” He narrows his eyes, as if calculating an intense equation in his head.

“Yes sir,” The voice answers and stomps away.

“I overestimated you, Stiff.” He squeezes my waist and forces my body down on his cock again.

“We had a deal. I tell you were Four is and you let me go,” I respond, clawing at his hands.

“Not so fast. We aren’t done until Four’s body is cold. Until then, you’re mine.”

“I would rather die first.” I say through gritted teeth. A pained expression flashes across Eric’s features for a split second but was immediately masked.

“I’m afraid that isn’t an option.” His lips crash onto mine and I struggle to breathe again. He dug his nails into my back, making my mouth open in a whimper. He forces his tongue into my mouth and I try to force him out. I manage to bite down on his lip hard enough to taste blood. I gasp for air when he pulls his mouth away.

“Death is always an option,” I respond, licking the blood from my lips. I wasn’t lying this time and he knew it. He shoves me off his lap and pushes me onto the bunk head first. He forces my hips back and enters me from behind. I bite the blanket to keep myself from screaming in frustration. My hands are free but I was too weak to fight him, all of my muscles ached. Instead, I grab the blankets and anchor myself to them. The physical pain is bearable but the emotional pain and frustration brings tears to my eyes. I feel like I’m in the fear simulation again— fighting the emotions that keep me from thinking rationally—except I can’t control anything. I am completely helpless. The weight of the situation crashes down on my shoulders. Peter wasn’t going to save me—this really was a sick joke. Is he trying to get me back for placing ahead of him when he failed to push me into the chasm?

“It isn’t an option. If you ever try to off yourself, I will hunt down everyone you love and kill them in front of you. Did you know your brother showed up at Erudite yesterday? I was about to splatter his brains across the wall, but it turns out he’s been working for the Erudite, all this time. Did you know that?” I remain silent. I don’t believe him. He slaps my ass and pushes my trembling body deeper into the mattress.

“Answer me! Did you know your brother fucking betrayed you? He chose faction over blood,” I gasp for breath when he releases me.

“No! You’re lying!” I scream. The edges of my vision where darkening as I try to fill my lungs with oxygen. The back of my throat aches from trying to hold back tears.

“You will answer me when I ask you a question. If you don’t, your brother just might find himself at the bottom of the chasm. Do you want that?” Eric barks. His thrusts are becoming more desperate. He is close. I only have to wait a little longer and this would all be over—for now.

“No,” Angry tears escape and travel down my face.

“Good. I knew you were smart. If only Four were here to see this. He might have bested me in initiation training, but I’m the first to fuck his girl. Maybe when I find him we can give him a show,” Eric says. He lets out a low groan and finishes inside of me. I can feel his breath tickle my back as he lingers, before pulling out.

 I relax slightly when I hear him fasten his belt. I don’t bother watching him leave. Instead I curl into myself and wish I could disappear.

“Remember, you’re mine,” He says before the door closes behind him with a thud.

“Never,” I whisper again to myself. He and Peter will pay for this, in blood. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter was pretty dark. It was pretty difficult to write but it serves a purpose, I promise. Don’t worry though; there will be more Peter/Tris moments in the next chapter! If you need a happy song to listen to after reading this, I would recommend Lollipop by MIKA and All About Us by He is We.  
> BelleNoelle


	5. Let it Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was pretty challenging because I’ve never written from Peter’s POV before so I wasn’t sure how to phrase things in a way that sounded less like me and more like an angsty teenage boy. This is sort of a filler chapter, after all, the first five chapters were written from Tris’ POV so Peter has some catching up to do. Let me know what you think of Peter’s narration.  
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 6: Let It Burn**

_I'm thinking it through_   
_I'm thinking of you_   
_Try to remind myself to move_   
_The nightmare unfolds_   
_Should have never let her go_   
_Alone in this empty room_   
_Let it burn_

Let it Burn- Ignite

**Peter’s POV**

I walk into the control room at 7:58 am. I slept a grand total of three hours last night between warning Tris of the plan and then thinking of all of the possible ways this could go wrong.  I guess it didn’t seem too extraordinary compared to the whopping average of 5 hours of sleep I get a night. Every night’s the same: I settle in to bed at 11 pm and stare at the ceiling until I fall asleep. In those waking moments, instead of seeing a rocky ceiling above me, images of suffering and death cloud my mind and haunt my dreams. Nightmares of the brutal murder of my mother and worst of all:  Tris body crumpled to the floor, lying in a pool of blood, her blond hair fanned out behind her in a halo, blank blue eyes staring into me, accusing me of her demise.  The image seemed permanently burned into my retinas, my only relief from the nightmare was seeing her alive and breathing in the initiate dorm room.

It was selfish to think, but I preferred her alive and close instead of her dead or in the hands of Jeanine Matthews, even if it meant we both had to suffer. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to rip my hair out every time I remember Eric putting his filthy hands on her. The hurt and betrayal in her eyes when I helped Eric hold her down made me feel like a monster. The only thing worse than the monster raping her was the monster who saw the whole thing happen and did nothing. I’d been convinced that there was something wrong with me from a young age; I witnessed countless acts of cruelty, and did nothing. We live in a cruel world; in the end time will fuck everyone over, so why bother trying to step in.  If anything I thought was doing them a favor, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?

Before my father left my mom and me, he’d been similar to the slimy, manipulative bastard Eric is, except he was completely predictable.  He’d stumble into the house after a night of drinking while everyone was asleep and our tiny candor apartment would burst with angry shouts as he dragged my mother out of the bedroom and threw her against the wall of our living room. Everything was her fault in his eyes: she was responsible for his alcohol addiction, trouble at work, you name it. My mother never did anything about it either; she’d keep a straight face while he beat and abused her until he was too exhausted to continue and passed out on the couch. Then, she’d straighten her clothes, wipe away the blood, tears, and evidence of my father’s abuse, and go back to bed. My father would wake up the next morning hungover and she’d prepare him breakfast and we’d all act as if nothing happened. With Tris, everything was different. I had to fight the urge to shoot Eric when he dumped Tris’ beaten form on the dormitory floor the day he kidnapped her, as if she were a sack of potatoes and not an injured person. Something inside me snapped when I saw her struggling beneath him, fighting like a trapped animal, something I suspected to exist but refused to let surface underneath the countless layers of nonchalance. I was in love with Tris Prior and I’d be damned if I didn’t do something to help her.

I thought she would be a weakling in the beginning, someone who I could easily pick off on my way to the top but she proved to be one of the strongest. It didn’t make sense; how could such a fragile looking girl be filled with spitfire and passion? The feelings I have for her are mixed: sometimes I feel the overwhelming need to protect her, while other times I just want to slap sense into her. At first I thought she was your typical, uptight, Stiff but she proved to be the exact opposite.  I tried to cover my interest in her when we were initiates by bullying her. She would have never looked my way or said a word to me if I didn’t. I tried justifying beating and terrorizing her, but I ended up hating myself more. I admit, I was weak and stupid for trying to scare her by dragging her over the chasm. I never intended to drop her but things went too far too quickly. She knew right away it was me and I feared she’d hate me for the rest of my life, when all I wanted was for her to notice me.

I dressed her wounds while she unconscious, and applied healing salves to help her wounds heal faster. I admired the curves and edges of her body: her pale soft skin, her tiny delicate frame that was more than capable of defending itself, and the innocence that seemed to radiate from her despite her attempts to seem tough. I fought the temptation to hold her small, calloused hand in my rough one. I sat by her still form and  talked to her; apologizing for my stupidity when we were initiates, telling her I wanted her to trust me, and how much I hated working for Eric.  I knew she couldn’t hear me but occasionally she would furrow her brow, creating a little crease between her eyebrows as she struggled against something in her sleep and said several names in her sleep: Tobias mostly but also mine. She didn’t say my name the way I was used to hearing it come from her lips, full of hate and malice, but soft and breathless. Maybe somehow, somewhere, she didn’t think I was a complete tool for what I did. Zeke caught me spending too much time with her and asked me to join him and Tori in taking down Eric, Max, Jeanine, and the Erudite and Dauntless working for them. Joining them was probably one of the easiest decisions I’ve ever made in my life.

There had been trouble at the gate in the early hours of the morning; Zeke had pounded on my door at 4am to tell me all about it. A couple dauntless rebels, who wanted to make their way to Amity, started a brawl with the other Dauntless stationed there. It was a hot mess, according to Zeke. Our side was armed with guns while the other wielded gardening tools. Two of our men were taken down in the spat and were currently lying in the infirmary, nursing their wounds. Apparently a gardening hoe can be a pretty lethal weapon. Eric had been at Erudite headquarters when it happened and hadn’t been informed of it yet. Technically it was my job to let him know when something like this happens but I can hardly stomach being in the same room as him. The old me would’ve probably admired him, climbing the ranks from an initiate to a dauntless leader in a mere two years—but the war has changed me.

I made an effort to look well rested this morning, but my efforts were in vain. Strong coffee and a cold shower can only do so much for a tired body. Felix, the Dauntless guard currently on duty, looked relieved when I entered the control room. No one likes working the night shift.  His large body dwarfed the computer chair under him. He was built like a tank, but preferred the control room to the front line. I can’t say I blame him. Tori, Zeke, and I would benefit from having him as an ally but it’s too hard to tell which side he’s on. For what I can assume, he couldn’t care less about the Erudite agenda and finding “divergent scum,” but didn’t want to betray his faction or the leaders he’s known all his life. I couldn’t risk him finding out about our plans which is why I chose to warn Tris in the dead of the night, when I knew Felix was passed out. Felix was just another predictable human being, he usually fell asleep within an hour in to the night shift

                “Nothing happened with the Stiff.” He yawns and gestures to the biggest screen behind him. I can see the faint glisten of drool on his chin. He must have been sleeping only moments before I walked in. “She slept like the dead.” I smirk and fight the urge to comment that she wasn’t the only one.

                “I’ll take over from here. You look like you need some rest.” Felix nods in silent agreement and rises from his chair.  He gives Zeke, who had just arrived, and friendly slap on the back on his way out. The two of them seemed to be on good terms.

                “Take it easy, Big guy!” Zeke calls out to his retreating form. Zeke was a pretty damn convincing actor. All he had to do was flash a grin and act chummy with someone until they trust him completely.  Nobody disliked Zeke, even Max who seems to dislike anything and everything. He turns to me, “How’s she doing?”

“She looks like hell,” I say, zooming the camera in to get a better look. She has her brow furrowed in her sleep again, her lips in a child-like pout. She grasped the thin blanket firmly in her hands, shivering. I make a mental note to get her a warmer blanket. Winter was on its way and we have no idea how much longer we’ll be here until we can escape.

“She’s living in hell,” Zeke says solemnly.  He sits at the computer screen next to me and skillfully brings up camera footage from the last time we worked. We’ve all been keeping an eye on Eric and Max, plotting our attack based on their actions. Max was in his office flipping through a few papers and Eric was still in a meeting with Jeanine.

                Zeke and I sit in the control room for the next hour watching the screens change to different locations every 10 seconds but dedicating a screen specifically to watch Tris. The compound was nearly empty—most Dauntless were either guarding Jeanine Matthews, at the fence, or patrolling around Erudite headquarters. The pit seems lonely and desolate compared to what it looked like when I was an initiate—the place was always filled with echoes of loud music, exaggerated stories, and drunken laughter. What was once the grand central station of Dauntless activity is simply a large empty cavern with the chasm roaring underneath it. The empty areas made my job in the control room easier, but boring. I was offered the opportunity to be a personal body guard for Jeanine but she is worse than Eric in certain areas. She seemed to lack even an ounce of emotion, as if she were a walking computer. Tori took the position instead.

"She’s awake,” Zeke elbows me and gestures toward the screen displaying the initiate dormitory.  Tris is looking painfully sickly these days; her pale skin is almost translucent and her small frame was shrinking by the day. She stares at the food on the tray by the door before approaching it. She must have given up any inhibitions about the food being poisoned because she downed the meal in a hurry. I’ve been trying to increase her rations but it’s hard to skirt around Esther, the guard stationed outside her door. Esther was a hard ass and she hated me from the moment I started working for Eric. Maybe I should send Zeke to try and rub elbows with her, maybe then I’d have better luck.

Zeke, Tori, and I were different from the other Dauntless who were working for the Erudite— we all have a reason to want to bring them down from the inside. Zeke wants to look out for his brother, Tori wants revenge on Jeanine, and I want to save Tris from the nightmare I keep having. We were all playing along in our own way. I joined Eric’s side the moment I heard of her supposed death at Candor. Eric wouldn’t have killed Tris, she was far too valuable. It had taken a while, and countless beatings, to get on Eric’s good side, but it was worth the effort. The door behind Tris opens silently and Eric confidently strides in. She doesn’t seem to notice.

 “Is that Eric? He isn’t supposed to be back from Erudite for another hour,” Zeke says glancing at his wristwatch. He’s right. Eric wasn’t due back at headquarters for another couple of hours according to his schedule but he doesn’t give a damn about following it. Tris is aware of his presence now; she backs away from him slowly, like a cornered prey. This looks all too familiar.

“Turn up the mic,” I say. Zeke turns a dial and Tris’ steady voice enters the room.

“ _Depends on what you want to talk about_ ,” she snaps. She needed to be a damn good actress if our plan is to work. I wipe the sweat from the palms of my hands onto my dark jeans. If anything were to happen to her, It would be all my fault.

“Eric looks pissed,” Zeke says. I shush him and lean in closer to the screen. Eric is extremely unpredictable. Our escape is completely dependent on his reaction which made things extremely uncomfortable. He’s stumbling towards her now, his footing wasn’t steady. Had he been drinking again?

“ _Stop acting so Goddamn stupid! Do I need to remind you of what will happen if you don’t start talking_ ,” Eric’s voice booms through the speaker.  _“I didn’t know you were a masochist, I guess I should’ve suspected it. Stiffs get off on beating their children, don’t they?”_   My knuckles turn white as I clench my fist, nails digging into my palms as Eric pushes Tris against the wall. I had seen this happen so many times with my parents but this time felt completely different, Tris was fighting back. She lands a pretty solid kick in his shin and tries to wriggle out of his grasp again. Eric forcefully slams her into the wall face first. I relax slightly when she turns her head in time to avoid a broken nose. She’s at a strange angle but she should be able to see the signal.

 _“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you enjoyed our time together,”_ Eric says. He’s saying all of these things to get under her skin. It’s a classic bullying maneuver.

“Zeke, get ready—.”  I say with my jaw clenched. Eric leans in and whispers something in Tris ear, I can’t tell what he’s saying but I see his hands all over her. I fight the urge to punch the screen in front of me.

 _“If I tell you where he is, will you let me go?_ ” Tris says. Is she bargaining with him now?

“Now?” Zeke asks. “I think she’s trying to tell us to hurry the fuck up and give the signal.”

“Wait a second,” I say to Zeke. This is the first time I’ve seen Eric caught off guard. She’s found a loop hole in his threats over her.

 _“Something like that. If you behave_.” My candor senses were tingling. He’s lying, it didn’t take a candor to see that.

“Well I don’t know where he is.”

 _“So we have to do things the hard way again. Trust me Tris, I don’t mind fucking you for information. It’s one of the highlights of my career. I’ll be honest; I was hoping you’d say no. I’ve been looking forward to fucking you senseless. It won’t be as bad as last time, you aren’t a virgin anymore.”_ I fight the temptation to look away when Eric pulls Tris dress off. I should have given her something that would take longer to remove, like a fucking corset. What was I thinking? Zeke is staring at his shoes. I almost forgot that he’d been in the control room the first time Eric attacked her.

 _“I said I don’t know where he is_!” Tris was completely exposed now; her pale body shivering in the cold air is slightly visible behind Eric. Eric throws obscenities and threats at her. The sadist in him is clearly enjoying this.

“Now?” Zeke asks. Eric was unbuckling his pants.

“Now,” I say.  Zeke reaches for the light and dims the set that was in Tris view. Eric didn’t seem to notice the change in the light.

 _“Wait!”_ She cries out.

“What is she doing?” Zeke asks. “We gave her the signal. Didn’t she see it?”

 _“Is this triggering your memory? I don’t take orders from Stiffs. Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll hear you out,”_ Eric says.

“ _Please stop!_ ” Tris’ voice breaks.

 _“That’s better_ ,” Eric says.

 _“Amity!”_ Tris gasps out, looking slightly relieved. I relax slightly.  It isn’t over until he leaves the room but I felt a brief sense of relief. I turn from the screen and run my hand through my hair.

 _“What did you say?_ ” Eric says. He sounds shocked for the second time

“ _He might have gone back to the amity compound. They’ve provided a place for refugees to go.”_ I lick my lips in anticipation. He looks like he buys it.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” Eric steps away from Tris. I release the breath I was holding. It’s over.

“Hold on,” Zeke squints his eyes at the camera. I look back at the screen in time to see Eric slap Tris across the face and push her back up against the wall. Fuck. It’s over.

“Shit,” I leap out of my chair and head toward the door. I didn’t know how I would stop Eric, but I’d be damned if I let him hurt her again.

“Hold up, Peter. Where are you going?” Zeke clamps a firm hand on my shoulder to stop me from running out of the room. I shove his hands away from me and start towards the door one more. Zeke blocks me again.

“I swear to God, Zeke. I will fucking kill you if you don’t get out of my way. I don’t have time for this!” Every second wasted is another second of torture for Tris. My heart beats wildly in my chest. She will never forgive me for this. This is worse than what I did to her as an initiate. She must think I knew this would happen— that I wanted it to. Tris releases a muffled groan as he slams into her. I was too late, he’s already raping her. Pure rage rips through my body.

“Listen to me Peter. What are you going to do— tell him to back off? You’ll be killed for insubordination and then who will protect Tris?” Zeke was right. If our situations were reversed, I’d probably do the same thing.

                “I told her this would work, that she wouldn’t have to go through this again!” I throw my hands in the air in surrender. I can’t stomach to look at the zoomed in image of tangled bodies. Tris’ cries and groans fill the room, accompanied by the sound of flesh hitting flesh. I feel like I’m about to get sick.

“Hold on. I’ve got an idea.” Zeke reaches for the intercom by the door and presses the center button.

“I have an urgent message for Eric,” Zeke says. There’s a momentary lapse of silence before someone answers.

“He’s busy. What’s the message? I’ll pass it to him.” I Esther’s gravelly voice responds. She was the closest to Eric at the moment. I wonder what she thinks of what’s happening right now.

                “Tell him there’s been an issue at the wall. A group of Dauntless rebels were trying to cross over in to Amity. We have two men down.” Zeke says. It technically wasn’t a lie. There was an occurrence at the wall but everything was sorted out now.

                “Hold on.” A knock echoes from the speakers. I refuse to look at the cameras but I can tell from the momentary silence that Eric has stopped.

“ _What_!” Eric snaps.

“ _We’ve received a report from the fence. A group of Insurgents penetrated our gates this morning and ran toward Amity headquarters. Two men are down, sir._ ” I try to swallow the lump in my throat as silence fills both rooms.

“Send Peter to investigate it, now! I’ll be there later.” Of course that wouldn’t tear him away from his assault. I dash toward the doors again before Zeke can grab me again. Zeke tackles me to the floor.

                “Peter! Listen to me. You can’t burst in there. You will be killed on the spot.” Zeke and I are matched in both strength and skill. I thrash under him and manage to throw him off of me. He’s on his feet right away and pushes me into the wall.

                “Fuck you. Zeke. I’m going to fucking kill him. This is fucking bullshit.” I throw a fist and hit Zeke in his stomach. He grunts slightly but retains his grip on me.

“No you’re not. I can’t let you ruin this for Tori and I. You aren’t helping Tris. If he suspects you are trying to help her, it will only make things worse!”

“Get off me Zeke. I swear to God, I will kill you, asshole!”

“What’s going on?” Max slams the door open and Zeke jumps away. Max looks at me with the same accusing expression he’s always worn around me. He’s never trusted me completely. Zeke once told me it was because we’re too similar. We both want power and will do anything to get it. The only difference was that he succeeded and I decided not to be an asshole. Zeke loosens his grip on the collar of my shirt and pats the raised fabric down in a friendly manner.

“Nothing. Just teaching Peter a few combat moves,” Zeke says, flashing a smile.

“On the clock?” Max raises an eyebrow.

“Uh- Eric is with her. It didn’t seem right to invade his privacy.” Max looks up to the screen and didn’t flinch at the sight. He knew about Eric’s plans with Tris but didn’t bother telling Jeanine about it. He wasn’t completely dedicated to her after all. How can you keep a calm face when you witness someone being brutally raped? Memories of seeing my father assault my mother enter my mind. I had watched with a blank expression too.

“Look. See what he’s doing? He’s praying on her insecurities. She had seven other fears but this one seemed to be the easiest to manipulate without putting her under simulation. One of the benefits of being a Dauntless leader is learning everyone’s fears. It doesn’t take much to manipulate someone under stress.” Max wasn’t some ruthless dauntless leader. He was a monster.

“Wait. Why not put her under simulation.—cause the emotional damage without the physical damage. She can’t take this forever,” I question.

“That is exactly our reason to not use the simulation serum. She’s divergent; she could fight the serum anyway. This way we don’t waste resources and time. The Erudite would be suspicious if they noticed us using the serums too much and getting a hold of truth serum from Candor is going to take a while.”

“So you justify raping her by saving resources?” I snap. It was getting harder and harder for me to continue. “She’s going to be permanently damaged by this!”

“Since when did you care about the well-being of a Divergent and Abnegation sympathizer, Peter?” Shit. I just dug myself a hole.

“I don’t care about her in particular. I care about results. You will break her.”

“That is the point. We’re in a war. Kill or be killed. Besides, she’s nowhere near her breaking point. It will probably take a few more sessions with Eric to scratch the surface.”

“Actually, she said something about Amity. She thinks Tobias might have gone there,” Zeke adds stepping in front of me.

“Interesting. I heard it over the intercom earlier.” I hope Max can’t see me tremble slightly in rage. He’s expressionless as he watches the monitor, if I couldn’t see and hear what was happening right now, I would suspect he was browsing through files.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, Peter. We’re missing a syringe and a dose of the memory serum from our weapons lab. I saw that you’ve been in there in the last couple of days. Did you notice anything missing?” His question seems genuine but this was probably a test. I did steal a syringe and dose of memory serum from the lab but I erased the footage and replaced it with something else. Zeke didn’t know about my visit to the weapons lab. I had it in my pocket but it must have slipped out. Of course, I can’t tell max this.

“I haven’t,” I lie.

“Ezekiel?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. We have a weapons lab with serums?” Zeke was pretty damn convincing when it came to playing dumb. Max purses his lips and looks away from the screen. I steal a glance at the screen and see only Tris. Eric must have left while Max was here.

“Let me know if you hear anything,” Max says curtly and leaves the room. I stare at the screen where Tris is. She’s curled up in a ball, her shoulders shake slightly as she sobs.

“Turn it off.” I say to Zeke. He looks confused for a second but registers my meaning. The screen turns black and the audio of Tris sniffles are cut from the room. The silence was in the room was deafening. “I’m going to take a walk.” I don’t bother sticking around to hear Zeke’s response. I just leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So maybe it's because i'm relatively new here and don't know the ropes, but I'm going to be completely shameless and ask for comments. How am I supposed to know that these kudos are from real people and not robots? It's a legit worry, my friends. Therefore, I will be the annoying thirsty offer and ask for a comment. Any comment. You can comment your grocery list, an idea, or something related to the story.  
> Until next time,  
> Belle


	6. Chapter 6: Only Human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Again, I just wanted to give a shout out to SpeghettiMonster, Fourfears, and Sarah. Oliver. Slate. Thank You for your comments on my story! I enjoyed reading every one of them and they brought me the inspiration to post this chapter a little earlier than I intended (Which I apologize, if the grammar is atrocious. I will be going back and re-editing everything later).  
> Last chapter brought up a few questions, so hopefully I can answer them for you in the next few chapters. If your question is not answered or you simply can't wait, feel free to PM me or send me an ask on Tumblr. This story has gotten rather dark and brutal, but fear not dear readers for the end is in sight! This chapter was originally almost 5,000 words, but i split it in two, so be looking out for chapter 7 soon!

_But I'm only human_

_And I bleed when I fall down_

_I'm only human_

_And I crash and I break down_

_Your words in my head, knives in my heart_

_You build me up and then I fall apart_

_'Cause I'm only human_

**Human-Christina Perri**

**Chapter Six: Only Human**

 

                I’ve never felt this way before: lost , helpless, and alone. Every time I had to face an obstacle in the past, I was strong enough to overcome it, but now I was too weak. My situation was incredibly bleak. I hadn’t moved since Eric left the room, staying curled up on the mattress, staring at the wall. The cold crept up on me, its icy fingers skimming the exposed skin on my back. I took a deep breath and stretched, my aching muscles screaming in protest as I moved toward the edge of the bunk. Walking toward the dress that Eric had unceremoniously dumped in the middle of the room during his assault, I nearly lost my balance on my shaking feet and sore legs. The dress looked like an ominous, inky black pool in the middle of the room. When I slipped it over my bare shoulders, I could smell him: a mixture of spicy cologne, sweat, and scotch. My stomach lurched at the memory and I fought the rising bile at the back of my throat. I was right to fear intimacy; all it brought was hurt and confusion. If I had it my way, I would never have sex again. Ever.

                One thing was certain. This was no longer a test of physical strength, but a battle of wits and you cannot trust anyone but yourself. If I somehow manage to escape this prison, where would I go? Caleb is the first name that comes to mind—He’s family after all, even if he chose his faction over blood. If I were to find him, let him know I’m alive, would he help me or expose me to Jeanine? It wasn’t a risk I was willing to take. Amity would be the next ideal option but it will be crawling with Eric’s lackeys, since I fed him that information. Candor headquarters was the last place I saw Tobias but I doubt he’d still be there after the attack. I was running out of options and it didn’t help knowing half of Candor and Dauntless are simulation ready, and a good amount of the Abnegation were slaughtered. My final option would be to find Evelyn and the factionless in hope that they will help me. Tobias relationship with his mother is strained, and she isn’t particularly fond of me, but it’s my only choice. A part of me hopes desperately that he’s searching for me; that somehow he knows I’m still alive.

I see a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye and press myself up against the wall before I noticed the camera Peter had pointed out to me the night before. It was following my movements. I’m filled with rage at the thought of Peter watching the whole thing happen from the control room and doing nothing. I glare at the camera, refusing to break eye contact with its circular lens. I imagine the hate radiating from my body, entering the lens, traveling through the circuits into the control room computers, and somehow electrocuting Peter. Why would Peter chose to work in the control room when he could be Jeanine’s lapdog and be free to roam the city, kicking puppies, stealing candy from infants, or doing whatever it is that sadistic bastards like him do in their spare time.

 I glared at the camera until the door opened and Peter sauntered in flanked by a guard I haven’t seen before.  If I wasn’t feeling undying hate for Peter right now, I might have been intimidated by the size of the guard behind him. A thousand conflicting emotions bubbled inside of me when our eyes met, but one emotion stood prominent from the rest: undeniable rage. I’m beside myself, contemplating what I want to do more: launch myself at Peter’s throat to breaking down in sobs to making some kind of joke—because that’s all I am to him. Some sick joke—a toy that he can play with until it’s broken. He mumbled something to the guard and he left, leaving me alone with Peter. Peter opened his mouth, about to say something but I cut him off.

“It didn’t work,” I spat. “Your stupid plan didn’t work! But you knew it wouldn’t, right? That was the plan all along.” I wanted to say something sharp as a knife, attack him verbally because my weak body could barely support itself.

Peter stared at the floor, silently. He looked tired, not in the typical lack of sleep kind of way, but tired as in weary with life. Exhausted from each mile stone, each turn of event, or twist of fate that shaped his life. That was probably the only thing we have in common, a lackluster outlook on life.

“Say something!” I screamed. I was beyond angry and frustrated with him right now, I was furious. I had actually trusted Peter Hayes to get me out this hell, and I got what I deserved. When will I learn?

“I’m sorry, he hurt you Tris.” Peter said, lifting his gaze from the ground near my feet to my eyes. No, Not my eyes, but my forehead, my reddened cheeks, my chapped lips, everywhere but my eyes. This whole situation was uncomfortable. I was preparing myself for a snarky comment, but was met with an apology. Why was he still trying to act like gave a shit about what happened to me? I would feel better if he cut the bullshit and returned to his regular, mean self.

“You’re sorry? Is that all?” My throat was dry and the words I forced from my mouth sounded weak and raspy. “What? You have no snide comments for me? No ‘you’re an idiot for trusting me in the first place’ or ‘you got what you deserved?’ Go ahead, say it! Game’s over. Everything is out in the open now, so feel free to go full Candor on me. Call me a Stiff while you’re at it too. Haven’t heard you say that in a while.” Why were my accusations making me feel worse? I clenched my fists to keep them from shaking, my eyes burned slightly with tears. No, I will not cry in front of Peter Hayes. I’m not that weak.

“Joke’s over! You win! You got me good. I actually trusted you.” I let out a strangled laugh and furiously wiped away the angry tears that blurred my vision with the back of my hand. “I actually thought you changed. That maybe, I had misjudged you before, and deep, deep down you were good. You deserve a fucking trophy because you really made me believe you had a heart.”

“Tris- there was nothing I could do. Believe me, Zeke and I tried to get Eric out of there. He’s pissed as hell too.“ I was disgusted with him. The mentioning of Zeke’s name brought back memories of Tobias. Those once, happy memories, stung.

“Zeke? You honestly think I believe Zeke was in on this? Zeke probably isn’t here. You just used his name to make me trust you. Cut the bullshit!” My arms trembled as I clenched my hands into fists, anger and adrenaline pumped through my veins, making me forget my weakness and pain. I was on the verge of hysteria. No—I’m well passed that and I couldn’t take it any longer. I lunged at him and punched him square in the stomach before bringing my knee up to collide with his face. I wasn’t as strong as I was during initiation, but somehow I was winning this fight. Then it dawned on me; he wasn’t fighting back. He was letting me beat the shit out of him. This was just like our fight when we were initiates, except our roles were reversed.

“Fight back you coward! It’s not like you’ve never hurt me before!” I curled my fingers slightly forward  and slapped him, digging my nails into his cheek. He didn’t even bother protecting his face. He finally met my gaze, his eyes an unreadable mixture of pain and confusion. I lunged at him again with all the force my body could muster, succeeding in toppling him over onto his back. I straddled him, my hands wrapped around his neck, but I couldn’t bring myself to squeeze. I was trembling furiously.

“Tris, listen to me. I want to help you. You just need to trust me.” He brought his hand up to my shoulder and gently brushed it. I flinched at the contact and smacked his hand away. He meant to be gentle, but when his fingers brushed my skin, I felt a shock of electricity.

“Touch me again and I’ll kill you. You’re no better than he is.” My voice broke. “You let him hurt me again.” A small drop of water fell onto Peter’s bloody cheek. I brought my hand up to my own cheek and realized I was still crying. My tears evolved from angry to broken.

“It’s going to be okay.” I felt his hand at the small of my back and I chocked back a sob. Despite the pain and hatred I felt, I didn’t push him away this time. Emotion was trying to burst past the mental block I built and attacking Peter wasn’t helping. I thought I had already cried out every tear I had, but apparently I hadn’t. It was like there was an animal inside of me—a beast that snarls, and growls, and strains toward freedom, toward Tobias, and above all, toward life. And as hard as I’ve tried, I cannot kill it ( **See A/N).** I won’t kill it— it is the reminder of the strong, determined, girl I once was. Before Jeanine, Eric, and Peter stripped me of everything I held loved. My parents, Caleb, Tobias, Christina, my strength and determination. The last thing I held on to was my sanity, but I’m at risk of losing that too.

“Eric is looking for you. He wanted me to tell you—“ the large dauntless guard I saw earlier stopped mid-sentence, halfway through the door. His eyes widened as he saw Peter’s bloody cheek and my hands wrapped around Peter’s throat “Woah. What the hell is going on?” I snapped back to reality as, the man wrapped an arm around my waist and lifted me away from Peter as if I weighed nothing. I clawed at the guard’s rough grip on my waist, but failed to make a single scratch on his gloved hands. “I leave you alone with her for a second and she tries to kill you.”

“It’s okay, Ezra. I had it under control!”  Why isn’t he turning into the same cruel boy who tortured me as an initiate? Who humiliated me, beat me, and tried to throw me in to the chasm? I would feel a hell of a lot better attacking that Peter than the Peter who stood in front of me now. He was the one who looked wounded now—As if he had been raped by a sadistic bastard and told that everyone you loved thinks you’re dead. Who had every last hope of escape crushed in the past few hours.

“I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” I screeched and lashed out, the beast in me abandoning her tears and returning to anger, fighting for her life. I managed to land a kick in Ezra’s stomach, but his grip on me only tightened. I struggled to breathe in his crushing hold.

“Really? It didn’t seem like you had any control.” Out of the corner of my eye I could see Ezra reach for the gun stashed in the holster attached to his hip. If he shoots me, all of this will be over. One squeeze of a trigger and several seconds of pain and I would be free from this hell I’m in. Peter was on his feet now.

“I’m fine. Leave her. Ezra.” Peter said forcefully before bringing his hand to his injured cheek where my nails had left four long scratches. Ezra lowered me to the floor but kept a firm grasp on my waist to keep me from darting towards the door.

“NO! Shoot me, please! I can’t do this anymore!” I saw his hand waver and then rest on the gun, as if contemplating whether or not to head my request.

“She’s passed her limit. She needs to rest. Eric went too far.” Peter said.  I felt a pinch in my neck and it felt like all of the energy I had moments ago disappeared in to oblivion. I fell forward and Peter caught me before I hit the ground. Every second was more exhausting than the last and I could hardly feel Peter’s arms around my limp form as he carried me back to the bunk.

“I gave her a weak dose. She’ll be up in a couple hours.” Ezra’s voice sounded muffled and my vision was fading while I urged my eyelids to stay open. I tried to fight whatever Ezra injected in me, but it was an uphill battle and I wanted nothing more than to sleep. The door squeaked shut and I relaxed slightly. I was once again alone in the empty dormitory. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a quote from insurgent that I thought suited this chapter:  
> ”Because inside me is a beat that snarls, and growls, and strains toward freedom, toward Tobias, and, above all, toward life. And as hard as I try, I cannot kill it” (Roth 341). I wish I could take credit for that beautiful comparison, but they are not my words. Tris is so sassy when she’s at the Erudite compound so I wanted to reread that part for inspiration. It’s the closest original plot line to mine. Let me know what you think! If you want updates on my writing, or want your questions answered, check out my Tumblr Bellenoellefics.tumblr.com   
> Love, Love, you all!  
> Belle


	7. Chapter 7: In The end We're All Alive

**A/N: Hello faithful readers! I’m sorry for my sporadic update schedule, work and family have been demanding every free moment but, I promise all of you have been on my mind the whole time. In my last update, I mentioned this chapter would be up pretty soon, but while I was looking over and editing things, I realized I didn’t like how it turned out, so I rewrote it, and then rewrote it again, and again. I kid you not. I’ve gone through about three drafts before I finally settled on this one. This chapter is pretty crucial to the rest of the plot, you will find out why later.**

**For more information on future updates, check out my tumblr blog BelleNoellefics.tumblr.com . You can send me messages through clicking the “ask” option under my picture.**

**Sending warm thoughts your way,**

**Belle**

**WARNINGS: Non/ Dubious consent sex scene, smut, cursing.**

**Chapter 7** : In the End We’re all Alive

_I'm not listening to you_

_I am wandering right through existence_

_With no purpose and no drive_

_'Cause in the end we're all alive, alive_

Zombie: The Pretty Reckless

Waking up is a blissfully cruel experience now.  When you’re first blinking the sleep away from your eyes, you are numb and oblivious to the world around you, like a newborn. In that innocent fraction of a second, you don’t know who are, where you came from, or what your purpose in life is— and it doesn’t matter either. But, just as swiftly as that peaceful moment came, it abandons you with cruel reality. I’m Tris Prior, I’m imprisoned at dauntless headquarters, and I would rather die than spend another second here.

 I squeeze my eyes shut but fat tears roll down my cheeks and my throat makes a strangled cry as I try to fight the emotion that is threatening to burst. I let myself cry until my cries became hoarse and my sobs no longer accompanied with tears—until I had no more left to cry. Then I feel as if a crushing weight is lifted from my chest after I release the emotion I’ve bottled up inside of myself for so long. It’s funny how the body and soul experience complete numbness after a hard cry or intense emotion, I’m so numb that I wonder if I could ever feel emotion again, or if I even wanted to. Like a zombie. My soul feels like it had been broken and scattered into a million shards of glass— sharp around the edges but longing to be pieced back together and be whole again.

Now that I’m awake, all I want is to sleep again, dream again. I roll onto my side, back to the door, and gasp when my hand brushes against something under my pillow. The syringe. I remain curled up in my bunk for a while, clutching the syringe of mystery serum that always seems to be out of reach when I needed it the most. From now on I’m going to keep this glued to myself. I will have my revenge.

                Eric said death was not a viable option for me. He’s right, in my current condition, all I wanted to do was stay in bed forever, lying limp like a rag doll. But the Dauntless flame that flickered within me, has not faded yet, and with every passing moment, it grows stronger, no longer smothered by emotion, but kindled by hatred. I’m a warrior trapped in a weakling’s body. I stiffen when I hear the door squeak open and squeeze my eyes shut.

 Heavy, commanding, footsteps echo through the room a sense of doom washes over me. Eric. With my ear pressed to the pillow, I can hear my heart rate quicken. I try to slow down my breathing, like in the fear simulator and feign sleep, part of me hoping Eric would disappear like a nightmare. A rough, warm hand cupped my exposed neck in a caress, tracing the vertebrae at the top of my neck down my spine and resting on my hip. I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

                “Don’t touch me,” I say , clenching my teeth, “I told you what I know about Four. There’s nothing else.” The hand on hip halts, digging into the soft flesh between my pelvis and ribcage, and forces me to roll onto my back.

“Look at me,” Eric growls.  I refuse to look at him, instead memorizing the wooden pattern in the bunk above me. He sighs in frustration and grabs my chin, forcing me to face him. I continue my small act of defiance and stare at the wall passed his left shoulder.

                “What did I tell you about giving orders? How many times do I have to remind you before you understand?” My eyes are the only part of me that moves, carefully examining Eric’s hand on my chin, before returning to stare at the wood in the bunk above me. An idea strikes me. Eric suspects me to fight him, which is why he always manages to overtake me. This isn’t a battle of brute force, but of wit. I need to beat Eric at his own game— catch him off guard by doing the opposite of what he suspects. Then, attack him when he least expects it with the only weapon I have—the syringe of mystery serum hidden underneath my pillow.

                “That won’t be necessary,” I say quietly.  Just this one time, I will play along, but on my own terms. I haven’t the slightest idea on how to seduce a man, especially a sadistic psycho like Eric.

                “I knew you were a fast learner,” Erics says, the thumb of the hand on my chin traces my lips, I resist the urge to bite his thumb off. “In this society, everyone must learn their place. You’re finally understanding your place, then. Under me. Let’s see how well you do. Now, sit on the edge of the bed.” Eric smirks releasing my chin to cup my neck again. His hand slides from my neck down my back as I sit up to stare into his steely gaze. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my body facing his. I stay as still as possible as he explores my chest over the thin fabric of my dress. I clench the bed sheet in my hands to keep from swatting his hands away.  If I try fighting him off, he will drag me away from the bunk, and my only weapon.

“Take it off,” Eric commands, stepping back. I don’t move right away, unsure if I want to continue with this game with an unpredictable opponent. I swallow the lump in my throat. “Is there a problem?” He sneers, a hint of excitement evident in his tone. I meet his eyes, trying to keep a straight face, as my hands slide down my thighs to the hem of my dress. His eyes follow every move my trembling hands make on their journey down my thighs. I grasp the thin fabric in both fists and slowly pull it over my head, tossing it to the side. I wasn’t wearing any underwear. I bite my lip and spread my thighs open a few inches, hoping he will take the bait and come closer. Eric’s gaze drops from mine and sweeps over my pale skin before meeting my eyes again, a look of suspicion and confusion lingering in his eyes.

                “Are we going to do this or not?” I say while leaning back on my elbows. My fingers skim the edge of my pillow, inches away from the concealed syringe. His face hardens slightly before he lifts his shirt up over his head and discards it in the pile of black clothes at our feet. There’s something about his expression that unnerves me, it’s like I could almost see the wheels turning in his head. He’s planning something.

                “Come here.” A shiver travels down my spine when he grasps my wrists, forcing me to sit up again, eye level with his belt. My hands are positioned on his belt. “You do the work this time,” he says, a malicious glint evident in his eye. He’s testing me, seeing how far I’ll take this in our game of cat and mouse, predator and prey.

I fumble awkwardly with his leather belt, my fingers trembling slightly as I undo the buckle. I need to step up my game and lure him back to the bed, back to the syringe that was currently out of my reach. I tug at his belt loops, pulling him onto the bunk, until one of his knees rests on the bunk between the thighs. I let one hand linger on his thigh while the other carefully pulls his belt from the loops and tosses it to the side. His breath hitches every time my hand brushes passed the protrusion in his pants. His fingers twitch in annoyance and impatience.

                Next, I unfasten the button and zipper of his black pants, slowly revealing a pair of grey briefs beneath them. I stare up at him and he nods for me to continue. I can almost feel the impatience and frustration radiating from his body.

                “I don’t have all day, Tris.” I stiffen at his use of my first name and bite my tongue to keep from spitting back a reply. I nod and hook my thumbs in the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down in one, quick, fluid motion. His cock spring free, semi erect, the head glistening with precum. It’s becoming more difficult to maintain this act and my stomach lurches slightly. He isn’t close enough to inject the serum yet.He’s avoiding my eyes, trying to feign indifference to my actions, but when his eyes meet mine, I can tell I’m succeeding.

“Touch me.”  Eric takes my hand in his and wraps it firmly around his member, easing it down to the hilt and back up. He repeats this a couple times until I take over and move on my own and his hand wraps around my wrist instead, controlling the pace. With each journey down his length and back up, his cock stiffens and pulses slightly in my hand.  My hand starts to ache after a few minutes, but I don’t dare complain.

“Stop,” Eric says and tugs my wrist away.

“What now?” I ask softly, gazing up at his dark eyes innocently

                “Lay back,” Eric commands, pushing my shoulders into the mattress. I fight the urge to smile, as my hand snakes under the pillow to clutch the syringe. I’m lying naked, and exposed in front of the man I hate most but I was far from vulnerable. I’m in complete control of what was happening to me for the first time.

                Eric taps my knees impatiently and I part my thighs for him. I’m not ashamed of my body as it’s one of my only weapons against Eric. I gasp in surprise when I feel a finger brush across sensitive folds. Unlike last couple of times, Eric is being gentle, as if he wants me to enjoy this. I watch him as he kneels between my thighs, a small crease in his forehead as if he is meditating. I involuntarily arch my back, bringing myself closer to my enemy when I feel another finger position itself over my clit, tracing small circles. I bite my lip to keep from crying out again as shallow waves of pleasure cloud my mind. A sharp pain at my entrance brought me back to reality as Eric forces a finger passed my entrance and quickly removes it, rubbing his other fingers against it to check the level of lubrication.

“Not enjoying this, Stiff?” I moan in pain when he inserts another followed by more stimulation to my clit. Pain and pleasure battle for dominance. I grasp the syringe tightly and use my thumb nail to remove the covers over the cap and plunger while Eric continues his assault.

“It doesn’t matter,” I reply.

 “Tell me what you want me to do next,” he says, withdrawing his fingers.

                “Come closer.” I whisper. Eric smirk sand crawls on top of me, one hand positioning his cock at my entrance, the other holding himself upright. My right hand shoots forward and grabs his shoulder, pulling him closer until my lips almost touch his ear. He’s let his guard down now. This is probably my only chance.

                “I want you to. . .” I purr, my voice trailing  off slightly as I slowly removed the syringe from its hiding place, careful not to make any quick moves that may catch his attention. The syringe is hovering inches from his neck now. “Go fuck yourself, bastard.” I yell into his ear, plunging the needle into the side of Eric’s neck and push down the plunger, inserting the serum into his bloodstream.

                Eric yelps in pain and surprise and bolts upright, noticing the triumphant look on my face and the emptied syringe in my hand. “Hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it?” I smirk.

                “You. . . Bi-“ Eric’s hand wraps around my neck but fails to squeeze. The anger and surprise on his face melts into a calm, blank expression, and his body slumps over mine. I lie there, blinking several times is disbelief. I’m a leap closer to freedom. I struggle to breathe under his crushing weight but manage roll Eric’s limp body away from me and spring to my feet. The syringe in my hand falls to the ground and breaks into hundreds of tiny shards. I pull the dress over my bare shoulders and search Eric’s pocket for a key. I don’t feel a shred of sympathy for the bastard.

I can hear the distinct clicking sound of the camera in the corner zooming in, searching for me. I probably don’t have much time until someone stronger bursts in, alerted by whoever was in the control room.  I find an old key in his back pocket and run towards the door, shoving it into the padlock. The door squeals open and I take off into the dark hallway toward the pit. The pitter-patter of my bare feet hitting the floor echo throughout the empty tunnel as my heart beats faster than a run-away train. My lungs burn, my legs ache, but for the first time in a long time, I feel alive. I force my trembling legs to run faster when I hear shouts behind me and a stampede of heavy footsteps gaining on me. I quickly duck behind a small alcove and press myself tightly against the wall.

“Are you sure she went this way?” A masculine voice fills the hallway. I hold my breath and suck myself further in to the wall.

“See the blood on the floor back there? The bitch cut her foot on the glass. She definitely went this way,” another answers. I look down and see a shallow cut on the side of my foot. I had been too focused on escaping, that I hadn’t felt the shard of glass.

“Where did she get a hold of the memory serum? Eric won’t even know his own name when he wakes up.” The shadow conceals me as two Dauntless guards jog passed my hiding place. Memory serum? I shake my head and try to concentrate on the task at hand. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and plan my escape.

If I’m going to get out of here I will need to find an unconventional way out. There’s a rumored hidden tunnel at the bottom of the pit, nearly touching the chasm. If I manage to make my way to the bottom in time, I could slide through the entrance unnoticed. It’s a shot in the dark, but I’ll make it— I have to make it. My heart is beating wildly, pumping adrenaline throughout my body, ignoring its protests against the strain of sprinting when I push myself from my hiding place. I make it to the cavernous pit and run down the rocky slope toward the bottom. I’m halfway there, when I collide with another body and am tackled against the wall, face first.

I struggle to breathe beneath the weight of the figure above me, digging my nails into the stone wall, trying to claw my way out. I’ve made it this far, I’m not going to let someone drag me back.

“Are you fucking insane? You are trying to get yourself killed!” A voice hisses into my ear. Large, calloused hands find their way to my wrists and yank them behind my back. This is too frustratingly familiar. I’m so close to the freedom of the chasm— I can hear it, smell it. The beast inside of me, fueled by hatred, springs to life. I refuse to back down against my attacker, shoving my elbow back, and feeling it collide with a hard wall of muscle. I thrust my knee up feel it collide with a groin. My arms are freed as the attacker doubles over in pain. I push myself off the wall, stealing a glance at the man on the floor. Peter fucking Hayes.

“I told you if you ever touched me again, I would kill you,” I seethe, while backing away away.

“You can have the honors of killing me later. If you want to see daylight again, you need to get down, right now.” He catches my ankle and I tumble to the ground. Just as I fell, a group of armed Dauntless rebels run passed us in the direction I was headed.

“This side is clear,” Zeke passes us last and nods to Peter.  So Zeke actually is here? More and more Dauntless make their way into the pit.

“They’re searching for you everywhere. I’m going to bust you out of here, but you need to trust me.” He grabs my hand and runs in the opposite direction, toward the bridge across the chasm, half dragging me as I struggle to match his pace. He was faster than me even when I was in peak condition, as an initiate. I will my legs to carry me faster, refusing to panic, or even think for that matter, but a thought relentlessly springs into my head. Why am I trusting Peter Hayes? The last time I trusted him, dug me deeper down the metaphorical hole I was desperately trying to climb out of.  I dig my heels in to the rocky ground and catch the safety rail of the chasm, stopping Peter from dragging me any further.

“I’m not going any further with you. I don’t trust you.” I grasp the railing and painfully try to yank my wrist from Peter’s grasp. “Let go of me,” I grit my teeth.  Peter releases my aching wrist and puts his hands on my shoulders

“Goddamn it, Tris. I’m trying to save your life. We’re running out of time. They will kill you for what you did to Eric.” He shakes me, as if trying to shake me to my senses while surveying our surroundings, panic evident in his eyes.

“Hey, she’s over there!” A voice echoes from below us. Several armed dauntless sprint in our direction from across the chasm. “Peter’s got her!”

“No,” I whisper to myself. “Let me go!”I struggle against Peter and manage to shove him away from me. I dart across the bridge, but freeze midway when I see Max approach me from that other side, a dangerous glint in his eyes. I’m unarmed and trapped, on a rickety bridge, suspended 50 feet above the bubbling water in the chasm.  

I quickly hop the safety bar and clutch the slippery rail to temporarily anchor me to the bridge. This had been the same place Eric made Christina dangle over the chasm and presumably the same place Al jumped. The black water below is churning, creating tiny white foam bubbles on the surface. The hissing sound of water cascading against rock was fills my ears.  The black water makes the chasm seem like an abyss, carved deep in to the rock, when in reality, it’s pretty shallow. I could die a fool’s death by trying to jump, but I’d rather escape or die trying than stay here a moment longer. My friends wouldn’t miss me, they’ve already mourned my preemptive death.

“What the hell are you doing? Grab her! Damn it, Peter! I told you to bring her to me alive, not throw her in to the chasm again!” Max growls and takes a hesitant step closer.

“She’s fucking crazy!” Peter’s eyes are wide. I have a choice. Let myself be captured again or Jump. I narrow my eyes in Peter’s direction as he put one foot on the metal bridge.

“Don’t come any closer!” I yell. “Any closer and I will jump!”

“Tris, calm down. Just take my hand, okay?” He offers me his hand, his eyes urging me to take it.

“You should be happy Peter. I’m doing you a favor. I’m finishing what you started back when we were initiates. You wanted me dead then, right?” He furrows his brow and his outstretched hand returns to his side.

“Don’t do this Tris.” I ignore Peter and release one hand from the rail. The railing is slippery and the spray from the water hitting rocks below dampens my body. I relished this brief moment of freedom. For once, I had a choice.

  Just as Eric granted Christina three options, I also had three options. Try to double back the way I came in Peter’s direction, dart in Max’s direction, or take the risk of jumping in to the chasm with the slight possibility of finding an exit if I survive. The chasm seemed the most promising right now.

“Climb back over. You don’t want to fall and I don’t want to fish your body out of there later.” I’d been too busy looking at Peter to notice Max had taken several large steps in my direction.

“Eric said death isn’t an option, if I tried to kill myself, you would kill everyone I loved. You’re a fool. Everyone I love is dead now or where you can’t find them. I’m not afraid of you or death.” With every passing second, my one-handed grip on the rail became looser and looser.

“You wouldn’t last five seconds in the chasm.” Max barks. He has his gun trained on me now.

“What are you going to do, shoot me?” I take fierce pleasure in being one step ahead of the enemy for once.

                “Careful, I won’t ask you again. I’ll give you until the count of three to climb over on your own.” Max is trying to bargain with me now. This is a battle of wits, I remind myself. Not strength. I have to outwit Max just like I’d outwitted Eric. Faking my own death may be the only way out of here. After all, they can’t kill you once you’re already dead.

“One.” Max starts his count. I leaned forward and searched the water for a safe place to jump.

“Tris,” Peter hisses, he was in mid-step, one foot hovering over the bridge. I ignore him. It’s too late to back down now. Several dauntless guards have gathered behind Peter and Max. 

“Two.”.

“Three.”

“Be brave.” I say under my breath and jump in to the cold water below.

**A/N: Cliff Hanger! Or should I say, Chasm hanger! Anyone? No…? Okay. Let me know what is on your mind in a comment. Do you think she will survive? What do you think will happen next?**


	8. Chapter 8- Til The Casket Drops- Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello everyone! It’s been a while and I apologize for the lag. I would like to say a huge Thank You to everyone who has stuck with this story and hasn’t given up on me yet. We are approaching the end of this story and every review/comment/message on my tumblr has motivated me to keep writing. So here it is: THANK YOU!  
> This chapter is pretty short, but I felt that I couldn’t withhold updates from you guys any longer. I will be posting the rest later in a chapter update.  
> Cheers!  
> xBelle

_It was the coldest night of the year,_

_Snow-covered street lamps and Belvedere,_

_The moon was just a sliver, the light was fading,_

_The war was on its way,and we were waiting,_

_You asked me how long I'd stay by your side,_

_So I answered with only just one reply,_

_Til the casket drops_

**Til The Casket Drops- ZZ Ward**

 

Chapter 8: Til the Casket Drops- Part 1

Memories of choosing day and Dauntless initiation enter my mind as my feet left the metal platform of the bridge, narrowly escaping from several pairs of hands trying to pull me back. As soon as my feet left the ledge of the building, I felt weightless, breathless, and as gravity pulled me down in to the mysterious depths, I wasn’t afraid of the unknown. I was dauntless, unafraid, willing to take risk: the first jumper. This time there is no net at the bottom to catch me, nor crowds cheering my name and commending my bravery; only churning water that will swallow me whole.

The impact of slicing through the surface of the water stings my legs and forces the oxygen from my lungs. My knees scrape painfully against stone and I can’t tell which direction leads to the surface. My senses are overwhelmed: the icy water on my skin, the sound of the bubbling rapids filling my ears, my vision blind. I struggle against the current that pulls me under; a stronger, smoother, opponent than I anticipated. I fight back against it, kicking my legs against the stone barrier, in an attempt to reach the surface and relieve my burning lungs with oxygen. I glide several feet only to be flung like a rag doll. My back collides against a slim rock and my body contorts around it, the current pinning me to the stone. Maybe I will die here today— die knowing I fought until my last breath and slip peacefully into unconsciousness knowing I never betrayed my friends to the Erudite. All my struggles and pain will sink with me to the bottom of the chasm.

 But I don’t plan on dying. Not yet.

 Every muscle is screaming for oxygen, fingers tingling, heart throbbing, ears ringing, but I refuse to panic. Digging my fingers and toes into the stone, I push myself up the rock inch by inch the pain amplifying in my back, keeping me alert. I free myself from the rock and glide through the water, urging myself to continue fighting on with assurances. _One more meter and I’ll feel the still air on my finger tips. Keep going, just a little bit more. Just a little…_ Cool air encircles my face and my lungs ache when I fill them once more. My head bobs under the surface again as the white water crashes against the rocks, forcing me to breathe in a mouthful of water. Dizziness settles in and I hardly feel something clamp around my upper arm, tugging me back to the surface. I feel the cold air on my face once again but my lungs refuse to open and allow oxygen in. I lay on my side, one arm draped across my body, the other in an awkward angle over my head. Thick dark water trickles down my nose and collects in a small puddle near my cheek— I’m bleeding. This is it. I’ve been plucked from the river like a fish and left to suffocate. A bullet in the head would be a faster, painless, way to go.

Something warm wraps around my waist and squeezes tightly followed by a harsh blow to my back, between my shoulder blades. My eyes shoot open as a significant amount of water surges from my lungs, passed my lips in between weak coughs. My lungs feel heavy but the pounding ache in my chest subsides. My vision darkens again as an overwhelming drowsiness spreads throughout my body.

“Breathe!” A voice urges anxiously —my guardian angel who fished me from the water. I feel something or someone slapping my cheeks but I can’t force my eyes open to see who it was. I must be dreaming— I’ve died and now lie in some awkward in-between state waiting for my life to flash before my eyes. Then I feel something soft and warm cover my mouth gently and a juxtaposing pain in my lungs as they expand involuntarily with air, and I know I’m still alive. I still have a fighting chance. My lungs burn intensely as I inhale and I find myself choking on more water as I exhale. I gag as the last of the water trickles from my lips. The weight on my chest subsides and I finally feel free of the intruding water in my lungs.

“Stay with me, Tris. I promised I’d get you out of here.” It’s Peter —the voice belongs to Peter. Peter saved me?

 I want to open my eyes or furrow my brow in confusion but I can’t move. I’m paralyzed.  I try fighting the exhaustion that seems to dull my senses with every passing second, but I’m losing the will to hold on. Everything else happens in flashes: the roaring sounds of the chasm, voices arguing, the ring of a gunshot, a painful pinch to my neck, and a constant mantra of Peter repeating, “Stay with me, Tris”.  Finally, I find peace in the darkness that envelops my body.

* * *

 

Tobias stands before me in an empty alley, brow furrowed as if he is contemplating a difficult problem, a hint of sadness dwelling in his eyes. The street light bathes half his face in light, and elongates his shadow. He isn’t looking at me, instead focusing on the brick wall, his gaze skimming the top of my head.

“Tobias,” I whisper in disbelief. “Tobias. You came for me?” I extend my hand towards him, but he was out of my reach. I take a step closer, followed by another, and another, my steps soundless on the concrete below my feet. In several steps, I close the distance between the two of us, yet Tobias stares straight ahead of me, as if I’m invisible. Why wasn’t he looking at me?

“Tobias, look at me. I’m alive.” No response. “Tobias?” I say again, lifting my hand to brush his neck, only his warmth and the soft texture of his skin is absent on my palm. I feel nothing, as if an invisible barrier kept me from touching him. Behind him, only one shadow is visible when there should be two. Then realization washes over me like a splash of cold water, chilling me to the bone. I’m dreaming—this isn’t real. Tobias isn’t really here and neither am I. We only exist together somewhere in the confides of my Divergent mind.


End file.
